


sau.da.de

by HikariNoHimeWriter



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Alpha Everett Young, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bickering, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, F/F, F/M, I'm too invested in this to be healthy, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nesting, Omega Nicholas Rush, They get to talk, eventually, false heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24442945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HikariNoHimeWriter/pseuds/HikariNoHimeWriter
Summary: Noun(in Portuguese folk culture) A deep emotional state of melancholic longing for a person or thing that is absent. Saudade is a word for a sad state of intense longing for someone or something that is absent. Saudade is described as a kind of melancholy yearning. Also defined as a vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist.There are things in life you can't undo no matter how much you wish you could. Young knows that well. He made a mistake, one he knows he'll never be able to redeem himself for. But Rush's here. He survived. And, just maybe, Young has a chance to try.
Relationships: Mentioned Sharon Walker/Camile Wray, Nicholas Rush/Everett Young, Past Gloria Rush/Nicholas Rush, Past Tamara "TJ" Johansen/Everett Young
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	1. Mistake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Talla_Doe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/gifts).



> I swear that when I started watching SGU I didn't expect to find a plot and characters so captivating nor that I'd gain such a wonderful friend. Thanks for all the hours we spent talking back and forth about the best ways to break Rush and build him back again. You have no idea how much easier easier my days became as I talked more with you. And I really hope you like this ♥

_Everything will be okay now._ Young knows as much as soon as he crosses the Stargate and is faced with many worried, achingly familiar faces. Even if they hate him for what happened, even if the pain doesn’t let them see that he’s only doing what’s best for the crew, he knows everything was worth it. He not only cut out the main source of fights and disagreements from the ship, but also guaranteed that they’ll ultimately make their way back home now that there’s no Rush to interfere. There’s no traitor to frame him anymore either.

Young made it. He did what was best. Then why...?

His head is throbbing and he knows he won’t forget what it felt like to punch Rush, the pain brought by the impact. He doesn’t give either more than a passing thought, only harshly spitting out the story he made up on his way back. 

“There was a landslide. We were already running out of time. No, there was nothing I could do. I’m sorry, Eli. I’m going to TJ. We’ll see what we can do tomorrow.” Young’s disgusted at how easy the words come out of him, following the never-ending questions his crew throw at him left and right. He doesn’t look at their eyes, doesn't need it to know what they’re thinking: _tragedy, grief, betrayal, liar_. 

His way through the many corridors of Destiny is tortuously silent, far too much for Young to find any peace of mind. He still can feel their stares on his back, smell the confusion in the air every time he crosses paths with someone else. _And they don’t even know._

Young doesn’t want to think about their reactions. It won’t change what he did, what he needed to do. And, even if he tried to explain, the civilians wouldn’t understand. He knows those people are too biased in their views, believing alphas need to protect omegas no matter what. He should’ve done better, tried more, given up his life if necessary _._

_Hypocrites_ , he thinks, knowing the very same people who share said views said more than once what a bother Rush was, that Destiny would’ve been better without the omega in it. It’s simply... _disgusting._

He doesn’t bother going to the infirmary. It’s not there that he needs to be now. TJ is not the person who can help him now—and, he suspects, no one truly is. Young doesn’t feel relieved when his door locks behind him. His own scents overflow the room, marking this territory as his. A place that belongs to him and only him. 

He’s home now. He’s safe. And now, there’s no one to threaten him ever again.

* * *

“You know you should’ve come earlier, right?” Tamara’s voice holds the softest hint of scolding. Her fingers work carefully on his forehead. Young needs all of his willpower not to flinch every time the needle punctures his small wound. He’s just grateful it’s not bleeding anymore. “I’d rather save antibiotics for serious cases,” she continues almost nonchalantly. 

Young doesn’t ask what she considers _serious cases_. He doubts they’ll run into anything more dangerous than the Jungle Planet—and he still feels the goosebumps every time he remembers how he had to watch not only his comrades’, but his own death—or the immense Desert that allowed them to fix the life support at the expense of losing a life to the alien insects.

But TJ surely knows better than him. If she thinks that’s for the best, then he’ll endure the pain. It’s all he can do, after all. A small price to pay to show Destiny that he’s still worthy as their leader.

“I already told Eli and Camile that you’re taking the day and night off to rest and recover.” She’s not looking at him anymore. Young knows there’s no room for arguments. He still needs to try. 

“I need to, TJ,” he says carefully. Tamara stops cleaning her utensils for a moment, her very still form telling Young all he needs to know. “We’re all scared. Who knows when we’ll come back home. And without Rush here...”

“All conflicts will end,” she cuts him harshly. She drops the scissors she was using into a metal plate. Young cringes at the sound, but those thoughts quickly leave his mind when Tamara turns to look at him again. “Without Rush here, no one will stop us from trying to dial back Earth. Everything will be alright again, more than it’s ever been in Icarus.”

She inhales deeply, an obvious attempt at calming her own thoughts. She smells like lilies, withered down by the frustration she fails to hide despite her status as a beta. A sigh leaves her lips. “That’s what they’re saying out there, y’know. They never liked Rush’s way of doing things. Maybe hate it even more than having to obey the military. Who knows,” she’s rambling now. They both know it. But knowing never makes it easier. “There are others, though. I heard it earlier on my way here... Some civilians were talking about holding a funeral for him. To let his spirit know he wasn’t forgotten.”

Young could imagine who it was. Only about a dozen of them kept expressing their beliefs and religious views over the past months. Even fewer would actively think about _Rush_ instead of the _omega who fell_. 

Young’s not sure what to feel about it. 

“Maybe we should do it. The funeral,” Tamara adds. “Could be a good thing. Show we care... For him and you too.”

_No_ , _TJ_. 

“We know it wasn’t your fault.” 

_It was, I did this_.

“You tried your best...”

_I left him to die!_

“You don’t need to carry that guilt with you.”

_I don’t regret it_.

“Will you come if we do it?” Tamara looks at him expectantly. “Say farewell to your friend?”

He wants to refuse. He said all he had to say to Rush on that planet. Young would do everything again if given the chance. There’s no reason for him to attend to it except for making it a show for everyone else. A stupid, pathetic show Rush would do nothing but laugh off.

“I will.”

* * *

Young doesn’t know what he was expecting. It’s been so long since he’s been to a funeral, and even then it was as pompous as the military always tends to be. Flags, hymns, shots to the sky... He can’t remember how many times he sat there, watching the families of his fallen comrades grieving over their deaths. He wonders if those who died in Icarus had the same treatment. It doesn’t matter now. Knowing won’t change anything. Young can’t go back in time and attend those ceremonies, he can’t show those families the condolences he otherwise would make sure to express. 

This one is small. Just them, a small circle in front of the door to Rush’s room. Young’s sure not even a quarter of Destiny’s crew is here. He can’t see Greer or Scott, as well as some others who he knows used to work closely with Rush. Whether they’re too sad to attend or don’t want to show that they never cared, Young has a feeling he will never know. 

Camile is here, whispering something to Eli. The young alpha hadn’t stopped crying since the beginning. Tears still fall from his eyes as he crouches over small Camile _._

_“We’re family now!_ ” Young remembers Eli’s boisterous and proud voice announcing the news right after they captured the aliens that held the cure for the contamination in their water. He doesn’t know how that happened for sure, especially not with the phenomenon that reversed time, but they had an _imprint_. They were father and son in everything but blood. The change it had on them was more than noticeable: the way they synced so much better and instinctively gravitated around each other told them everything they had to know.

And now Eli lost his father for the second time, yet the only one he could hold for comfort was Camile, an alpha he always feared.

Young doesn’t feel sorry for Rush, but seeing Eli like that makes him wonder if it really was the best for everyone. At least, he’s sure, it couldn’t be any worse for Eli.

“He won’t be forgotten,” someone says amidst the small crowd, words that are repeated over and over again until Young can’t ignore them anymore. 

He looks up when a hand holds his. Tamara’s brown eyes look brighter than he remembers. It’s only then that he realizes that she is holding her tears. 

“We’ll make it,” she whispers.

There’s an answer ready for her, something more reassuring and hopeful than he feels. Those words disappear when his eyes meet Eli’s. There’s pain and confusion in them, but also hate; a hate Young knows is directed at no one but him.

TJ never gets her answer. Whatever he was going to say doesn’t feel right anymore, not now, in front of Eli. Something in Young shifts in that moment, something he didn’t allow himself to feel until now. He excuses himself as quietly as he can. He needs to leave, but more than anything he needs to be alone.

His room doesn’t feel nearly as comforting and reassuring as it was some days ago. It’s suffocating, the scent surrounding him is _wrong, this isn’t where he should be!_

But where else would he be? Where else would he run to? Earth? There’s no one waiting for him there anymore. Young knows he wouldn’t even bother coming back if it wasn’t for all those people outside, praying for a chance to have their families back. There’s nothing, no one out there for him... _Not anymore._

And it’s all his fault.

Young lets out a shaky sigh, carding his fingers through his short hair. He winces when he accidentally presses on the bandage on his forehead. A half-pained, half-amused huff escapes him _. So this is it, huh?_ Even in death Rush found a way to force Young to remember. 

“You were really a lotta work,” he whispers into the silence, knowing no one will answer it. Maybe it’s for the best, he muses. This way no one will question those unexplainable tears falling from his eyes. Relief? Happiness? Frustration? Satisfaction for getting rid of a threat? Young wants to think those are the reasons. H _e needs_ to believe them.

Or, he’s afraid, he too will go mad.

* * *

It’s hot. Young can feel the sweat dripping from his forehead and sand filling his lungs with each inhale. He needs to get out of here, to get back to the ship, to have pure—even if artificial—air again. He wants to see his friends, his pack again, have the reassurance that they’re there for him just as much as he wants to be there for them. He can see the Stargate in the distance already, all he has to do is walk a little more and he’ll be there.

But he can’t.

No matter how much he tries, his leg won’t move. Young groans and growls at the unknown, curses whatever gods there are out there, watching and mocking him. It doesn’t change a thing. His attempts get more desperate by the second as he watches the whirlwind that should take him back home, back to their Destiny, disappear.

A shuddering breath leaves him. Suddenly everything changes. Young feels cold to the bone, both from the drop in temperature and the loneliness deep inside his gut. He closes his eyes tight, trying to stop any tear from escaping. Crying won’t get him back home nor solve anything. And, he knows, there’s no reason for those tears now. He just needs to find a shelter and wait and Rush will find a way to bring Destiny back to him. He knows he will, for there’s no one as stubbornly brilliant as the omega _—but Rush never heard those words, not from him, definitely not from anyone else on Destiny_. 

Young opens his eyes again. That’s right. He’ll have to make sure Rush knows the truth, what Young really thinks of him. But until then, he needs to...

He still can’t move. Young shivers, something heavy and strangely warm wrapped around his leg. And it _hurts_ , so, so much even breathing becomes difficult. A low cry invades Young’s ears, followed by the scent of cocoa and ozone. He knows that scent, he knows that voice. He wishes he didn’t look down. Then he wouldn’t have to live with the memory of Rush, beaten and bloody and crying, clinging to him like a lifeline.

He wouldn’t remember he was the reason for that image. Young hurt him. He hurt an omega. He was ready to leave him to die. H _e did_ leave him to _die!_

_What kind of monster did I become?_

“Why? Why did you do this?” Rush’s looks at him through bloodied eyelashes. His lips are a dark shade of red when he speaks again, a voice that isn’t his filling Young’s ears. “Col. Young, are you there?” Rush reaches to his other leg, pained groans leaving him. “Col. Young, answer me!”

_“Col. Young!_ ”

A startled noise leaves Young’s lips. He sits on the bed, looking around frantically in search of anything, any sign that what he just saw was real. There’s nothing but the cold darkness of his chambers, the remembrance that Young’s all alone again.

Young doesn’t notice he’s digging his fingers into the sheets until he hears a ripping noise. He looks down to see he ruined yet another one of his sheets. Probably the third one in the past week. Young can’t help but shiver.

A week since Rush’s death. A week since Young became a murderer. A week since he committed his greatest and most painful mistake.

_“Col. Young, come in?_ ” The same voice speaks again, familiar and distinctively distressed. Scott. His voice must have been what woke him up from his nightmare. _“Please answer, I don’t think I can stop Greer from going there anymore._ ”

Young rubs his forehead, taking a deep breath before reaching for the radio by the bedside. “Young here. What’s wrong?”

He can hear Scott’s relief as well as a _‘told you’_ in the background. Young wonders how long he slept if it got to the point of worrying Greer. There’s no way to tell now, not when the view from his small window is always the same darkness of space and far away stars.

It’s only then that Young realizes the lack of multicolored, ever-moving lights that seemed to accompany most of their travel.

_“The ship’s just got out FTL. It’s your turn to use the stones_ , _sir_.” It’s Eli’s. His voice still holds that underlying bitterness that seemed to always be there when talking to Young now _._

_You killed my father_ , the words went unspoken but not unheard.

“Copy that. Young out.” He exhaled, carding his fingers through his short hair.

Young knows what he needs to do. He knows he needs to move _, now_ , but just the thought of moving and acting again made his head hurt. Maybe he should go to TJ later. He’s sure the beta will have something to help with his migraine.

If only she could erase that nightmare from his memory too...

He closes his eyes _. Composure, Colonel_ , his father’s voice echoes in his mind, the never-ending disapproval tainting his words. Young’s an alpha, the leader of his pack and commander of Destiny. He can’t let a dream stop him from fulfilling his duty.

And, for the better or worse, there’s no place for the ghost of Rush. Not anymore.

* * *

Tamara said the funeral would be the last farewell. Rush would be gone forever after it, a distant memory they would recall fond and longingly in the future. Young thought that too. He’d finally have his peace back, a peace that he didn’t have since Icarus.

He couldn’t be more wrong. 

No matter how, when, or where, Rush will always find a way to come back to him, to taunt him with everything he _—they_ could’ve had and accomplished. He’s a shadow over Eli in the control room, a presence almost too tangible for them to think just _he’s gone_ ; he’s there in the darkness that overwhelms him for the briefest moment while using the communication stones; he’s there, right now, as they fight yet again to live one more day, fueling the greatest sense of guilt in Young’s heart.

“You should’ve thought of that before leaving to him to die,” Eli told him _._

_You think I don’t know?_ Young wishes he could’ve answered.

The words don’t leave him. They never do, not even as he sees his crew divided and wallowing in doubts and fear, when Chloe’s taken and Eli’s convinced the shields won’t be able to take much more. They just keep piling up and suffocate him a little more with every passing second. Young chokes on them when Rush stands up, coughing up water and shivering. He can’t feel the omega’s scent. The alien body he’s possessed won’t allow him as much. Rush’s here, alive and real, and the realization makes him feel _,_ oh, so much lighter and _maybe there’s still hope_.

But there’s no relieved smile or sarcastic words when he realizes that Young is real and here as well. There’s only pain and anger when Rush calls his name, far too clear over the raging pain in Young’s head _. It can’t be all there is to it_ , he thinks to himself, and tries to go back there, back to Rush. He can’t come back. He can’t risk his crew either. There are just too many lives for him to be an egoistic bastard. 

So he orders for destruction. Orders for the death of someone who held, and still does, so much power over him. Young hates it. He hates that he can’t stop hoping and wishing for something that, he knows, has always been doomed to fail.

There’s no explosion in the vast space around them, no signs of the main ship being taken down. Young wonders what happened—did they retreat? And, if that’s so, what does it mean for Rush and Chloe _? Is it too late for you now?_

He knows his scent is getting stronger, a cloud of smoke and burnt cinnamon that he knows will do nothing but scare his comrades away.

_“Sir_ ,” Greer’s voice rings over the radio. Young’s entire body tenses up and he waits, waits for the confirmation of his greatest hope and worst nightmare. _“You’re not gonna believe this_.”

Young believes. Rush’s alive, real, and _home_ , back to the one place he should never have left. Having Rush back to the command room feels right. It’s his spot, the place the omega claimed to himself. And he’s just as happy as he’s conflicted and unsure about it. With Rush back, after everything, what will be of this fragile peace they still have? Young knows what kind of image he and his men must have among the civilians. He doesn’t want war and he knows that’s what will happen if the truth comes out.

_For the sake of the crew_ , they agreed that day.

_For the sake of the crew_ , they hit a reset on their relationship.

_For the sake of the crew_ , or so Young believed.

There’s no way he’d know about the treacherous plan behind Rush’s careful avoidance and Camile’s increasing harshness towards him. Not until now. 

He should have known, he thinks bitterly to himself as he makes his way to the other side of Destiny, ready to end whatever madness Rush and Camile started. Rush, more than everyone, would want things to change, to keep Young away from him. For what? For a false sense of safety, despite locking himself out with most of the people who hated him? For the satisfaction of having full control over the ship for himself, to do as he pleases? 

Young can’t understand. He wishes he didn’t know that this, all of this, is ultimately happening because of what he did to Rush. He brought it upon himself. He’ll make things right again, even if he needs to use force again. 

No one will stand between Young and his duty. He’ll do everything he needs to do, and then have everything he wants to have. He’ll have it all _._

_For his own sake._

* * *

If one asks him, Young can’t remember the last time he felt so absolutely on edge as he is now. It’s been hours since Rush’s surgery ended. Tamara never looked so absolutely satisfied and tired as she did when she told them they were successful. Scott destroyed the tracker. They’re safe from their persecutors now, more with each passing minute they spend in FTL.

But of course, nothing is so perfect as Young wishes they were. Rush’s still unconscious, locked away in his room with only Eli to watch over him. TJ isn’t sure how Rush’s body will fare with everything he’s been through—from being stranded on a deserted planet to being captured by aliens and all the stress that came with being back home, it’s simply amazing that the omega was able to keep some resemblance of sanity. Young’s not sure he could do it himself, had he been in Rush’s place.

However, his instincts tell him that isn’t all there is to it. Maybe it was the look on Tamara’s face, the subtle hesitance before she called it a night. Young’s certain she’s suspecting something, and it’s big enough to make her worried. And anything that has to do with Rush has Young worried as well.

He sighs. Young’s not sure what to do now. All he’s been doing lately is a series of seemingly grievous mistakes that only make things worse, both for himself and the crew. How can he make sure everyone will be able to live and work together, after this night? How can he erase the fear he and his men raised within the civilian population? How can he make all that _and_ follow his commanders’ orders?

Young has no idea. He needs help, any he can get, yet knows no one will willingly give him advice. And, even if he tried to find an answer by himself, he knows all he’ll find is another dead end _._

_He needs to move away from here_. There’s no point in waiting in front of the infirmary. Rush won’t want to see him. The worst part of knowing is that he also knows that he can’t blame the omega. He can’t erase what he did, can’t spare Rush of the pain he’s sure to be feeling now. And it hurts.

It hurts that he ruined all and every chance he could’ve had with Rush because of his petty anger and unjustifiable cruelty. That’s all Young really is, in the end: a petty, cruel alpha.

“Col. Young?” He looks up at the sound of Vanessa’s voice. The beta looks just as tired as they all are, with the added frustration of a poorly concealed relationship failure. Young can’t say he pities her as much as he knows he probably should as a friend. “Are you okay?”

Young’s ready to answer, another lie about to come out until he closes his mouth again. Lies. Aren’t they the reason things went so terribly wrong between him and Rush? Because of the omega’s lies? And now here he is, doing the same to everyone as though it’s the most natural thing to do.

What a pathetic thing he became.

“No,” he says truthfully, eyes focused on the infirmary’s doors. “But I’ll try to be.”

Vanessa nods in understanding. She leans against the wall and suddenly she looks so much older than she really is. “Guess we’ll all try.”

There’s silence again. Young’s not sure how long he’s been sitting here. His entire body hurts, demanding for the rest he so dutifully denies himself. Vanessa moves away from the wall, looking at Young with sympathetic eyes.

“You should tell him,” she says, light and easy, her words making Young’s entire body freeze _. Is it so obvious now, how much he wants Rush?_ Vanessa chuckles, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone noticed. It’s just... I’m way too familiar with this feeling of wanting someone you can’t have. Y’know, it’s easy to recognize your equals.”

Young wants to argue. It shouldn’t be. It’s not right. He’s married. Rush doesn’t want him back _. He doesn’t deserve Rush._

“What if the answer isn’t what I want?” he asks.

Vanessa smiles at him. “Then you fix what’s wrong. And try again, as many times as you need, until you have him.” She turns around, starting to walk back the way she came. “But for now? Rest. Take a shower. Eat. You’ll need to be at your best when the time comes.”

* * *

It’s not as easy to fall back into work as Young thought it would be. Brody and Lisa Park help him keep track of damages and repairs made on the ship. Scott keeps proving his worth and manages to reach a somewhat stable relationship with the civilians, even if just barely. Young’s yet to fully thank them for what they’re doing, for him and the crew, but is certain that they know. Hopes they do, for once again the words are stuck in his throat and refuse to leave him. 

He can count on one hand how many times he saw Eli during the past days. Most of them were from afar, during the rare occasions he’d leave Rush’s room to fetch food and water for them. TJ reassures everyone that Rush’s recovering well and there’s no sign of an infection; with proper rest and enough food, he’d be able to stand up and walk in another week or so. 

No one picked on the hesitant tone in Tamara’s voice. Young doesn’t press either, afraid of what that would look like for the others. He definitely doesn’t need more people knowing about his attraction to Rush, not now when their peace is still so fragile.

They only forgot that Rush’s as stubborn as he is brilliant. Nothing, not even his own body could stop him from doing anything he wants to. Eli’s worried screams shouldn’t surprise them, nor should Rush’s small, slouching form walking into the control room.

“Come back now! Yo _u shouldn’t_ be here!” The young alpha’s sweating as though he ran all the way from the mess hall and back to Rush’s room only to find the omega gone. And, if the apple-looking fruit in his hand is anything to go by, that’s exactly what happened.

Young feels he shouldn’t be so amused as he is; happy, even. A Rush that escapes the confinement of his own room is surely a strong, healthier Rush. 

“The only thing I shouldn’t be doing, Eli,” Rush’s voice sounds hoarse and mildly annoyed, “is let y’all mess around with my ship without supervision any more.” 

Lisa steps back without any further request, letting Rush take back the spot that, they know, is rightfully his. The omega leans onto the controller more than he would normally, one of his hands coming to his chest. His expression shows the pain he still feels, pain that solely exists because of what Young did. But his eyes _,_ oh, they’ve never been so alive before, as though he just rediscovered his reason to live. 

Young likes that look. He wants to see it more, even if not directed at him. He wants Rush to have whatever happiness he can find. 

He deserves this, more than anyone else.

It’s all Young needs to see before stepping back and out of the room, silent as though he was never there _. I won’t ruin this moment too, Rush_ , he thinks, thoughts drowning under the sound of Rush’s more than excited voice.

“So, who’s gonna report first?”

* * *

They say there’s always a rainbow after the storm. Things will get better, as long as you hold your ground. The reward will come in the end, and you’ll see everything’s worth it. Young wishes he could tell them they forgot to mention that after the rainbow another storm awaits, bigger and stronger, just waiting to completely crush you. 

He could barely focus on his work while Rush recovered. The distance seemed to kill him a little more each day, but every time Rush looked at him, even if just for a brief second, and Young saw no hate in his eyes; those moments made everything worth it, the burning hope inside him and the painful darkness of the nightmares that still followed him at the night. 

But now it’s so much worse. Rush’s occasional reply, the casual tone that gave him a false sense of closeness both frustrated and gave Young something new to hold onto. The way he doesn’t give a step back or crosses his arms when Young approaches him will drive him crazy. Is this a sign? Can he take the chance? Or is Rush just waiting to see what he’ll do and use that against him as well? Young can’t tell which one is the correct answer. He can’t stop thinking, wondering, considering, almost oblivious to the work piling up on his desk. 

And there’s the smell. Something sweet, comforting and alluring at the same time, something that calls him in even if he doesn’t know where it’s coming from. He knows it’s there, he knows he’s not the only one to feel it. Greer’s grip on his weapon is a little too tight and the ever-confident Camile’s voice waivers whenever that smell is present, while Scott, Eli and TJ—two betas and an alpha, the last one emotionally bonded to one of the few omegas in their crew—look more worried than affected. 

Young isn’t sure what to think of this. He shouldn’t think so much about this, however, when they still have such a long road ahead of them.

“We gotta a long way to go ‘till we’re out of FTL,” Rush tells him one night. There’s only them and Eli here. The other alpha still looks at him warily, ready to enter a flight or fight state. 

And, given his feelings for Rush, a father in all but blood, Young’s sure which one he’ll choose should anything threaten Rush. 

The omega can walk more easily now, his back almost completely straight as his fingers move gracefully over the various panels in front of him. Young will still catch him wincing sometimes after a sudden movement or an involuntary stretch. The urge to go to Rush and check on his sutures, make sure everything’s right and he’s _safe_ , almost too strong to be contained, but he manages somehow. 

Only barely.

“So no way to say when we can replenish our resources?” His own voice sounds weird to him. It’s hoarser than he expected, strained as though he can’t contain his emotions. Weird. That sweet scent is here again, stronger than it’s been over the past days. 

“Exactly,” he answers just a moment later, interrupting the alpha’s thoughts. “No planets or stargates in sight for the next week _. At least_. Time to rationalize again, Colonel.” There’s a smile on Rush’s face, though it looks a little too nervous _, forced_ , to be real. 

“You just want them to hate me more, don’t you?” Young retorts, snorting at his own words.

Rush’s fingers card through his hair, pulling the strands away from his forehead, “A small price to pay, don’t you think?” 

“Fair enough. I’ll take the blame for your suggestion this time, Doctor.” Young bows his head jokingly. It’s worth it, for it allows him to see Rush’s eyes sparkle again.

“Great,” Rush retorts with an equally sarcastic tone and suddenly Young feels as though they’re back in time, to when they could still joke and be comfortable around each other. It’s a nice feeling, one Young can’t help but wish will stay forever. 

“We should go sleep now,” Eli pipes in, voice not as harsh as it is tired. 

“Sure. You big kids should be asleep already.” There’s a smile on Rush’s lips now, small but _real_. There’s a fondness in there that makes Young think that having that smile directed at another alpha, even Rush’s adopted child, is _wrong_. It should be his, and no one else’s.

But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let that feeling, whatever it is, show in his expression or scent. He doesn’t want to give Rush another reason to be mad at him, not when they’re just coming to better terms. 

“Good night, Colonel,” he says as he steps back to follow Eli outside.

Young doesn’t need to think of a reply, for the words leave his lips as though on their own, ready to answer to Rush’s expectations.

Indeed, he has a good night, free of nightmares and the anxiety that seemed to follow him every moment in Destiny. Young wakes up later than usual, yet can’t feel the annoyance that usually comes with a broken schedule. It’s been a long time since he’s felt so well-rested and at ease as he feels now. 

There’s no one in the corridors as he makes his way to the mess hall. Young doesn’t even mind the hissing sounds that fill the silence between each step _. Destiny’s ali_ v _e_ , Rush said once, his voice sounding so much softer than usual _, this is how she breathes. Beautiful, don’t you think_? Young didn’t think that. Still doesn’t, to be frank with himself. But he gets what Rush meant, understands the sentiment behind each word. He wonders if someday he’ll see this little world that is their ship the same way as Rush.

He can’t help but look forward to the time he’ll spend in the control room, with Rush’s quiet, calm presence right by his side. Maybe there’ll be something he can do to help Rush? The omega always looks pleased when someone helps him with whatever he’s working on. Maybe... 

“LET ME GO!” Young stops dead in his track, his whole body going tense at the sound of that scream. He heard it many times to recognize it. The difference is that while he’s heard the anger and frustration, he never heard that absolute terror before.

He runs. He barely registers what he’s doing, where he’s going before he’s moving. Rush is scared. Rush is in danger. Rush needs him. 

People never tell you about the storm after the rainbow, the new, absolute destruction that comes with it, the changes you can’t run away from, and the ever-lasting consequences. They’ll never know about the fear Rush felt, nor the anger that filled Young’s blood at the sight of Greer cornering the omega, his musky scent overpowering the sweet scent that’s been tantalizing Young for so long now.

Young’s fists are closed before he can think of it, taking decided steps forward _._

_He won’t fail his omega again._


	2. Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Dalla for being so patient with me. I really hope you like this ♥

There’s one thing connecting all people Rush met in his life, from his family and classmates to Destiny’s crew. It’s one single misunderstanding, the only thing they get wrong about Rush: unlike what they believe, Rush does not hate being an omega.

Rush is not weak, he’s not fragile, and he definitely isn’t incapable. Being an omega never stopped him from fighting for his studies and getting his degrees. It wasn’t an issue when he found love with a beautiful beta woman. Being an omega is nothing but an aspect of his biology and it definitely doesn’t make him any less than anyone.

What Rush hates is something else entirely, a side effect of being an omega combined with a series of factors that are out of his control. Something he did his best to erase from his memory altogether, yet keeps coming back in the moments he least expects it. It’s towering over him right now, blown pupils and erratic breath, the very image of an alpha lost in the haze of lust and desire. Rush hates this. He hates the irrationality that overcomes their senses, the complete disregard for what the other part wants, hates that his body won’t do as much as obey his commands.

If someone asked him how he ended up like this, Rush wouldn’t know how to answer them. He was dashing down the hallways, hoping to get back to the control room before Eli even realized he left his room again. The slight sting on his surgery scar didn’t bother him in the least, for all Rush can think about are the numbers flashing in his mind, the hope of having finally found the answer to conquer the Chair. 

He barely noticed the people he crossed paths with, most of them betas who looked at him twice as though checking he’s real and not just some fruit of their imagination. He had just taken another turn, fully expecting to find an empty hallway when a hand shoved him against the nearest wall. A choke leaves Rush as his scar stung harder. He shivers as he takes in the image of Greer, the one alpha who always hated him, looking down at him with lust all over his expression and scent.

“LET ME GO!” he screams, begs for Greer to let go of him, for anyone to come save him.

“Shoulda thought of that before going out in heat,” Greer snarls, his face too close for Rush’s comfort. His words make him freeze.

 _Heat_? That’s impossible. Even after coming off his suppressants, Rush didn’t have a single heat in over three months, and none for the two years before then. He’s past that stage. But something in Greer’s eyes, in the sudden change in his attitude—it makes Rush believe him.

A new wave of fear washes over him. Rush can’t shake the alpha’s hands away. He can’t run for safety, for someone who’ll tell him what to do. And, even if he did, who would he go to? Eli can’t fight Greer of all people and Rush isn’t sure if Camile will be able to hold back her instincts. He doesn’t know who he can trust from the crew either, civilian or military. Young...

It happens far too fast for Rush’s mind to follow. One moment Greer’s over him, hands holding his arms like iron claws; and then, the alpha’s on the floor, a pained growl leaving his lips as blood falls from his nose. Rush’s hand flies to cover the spot Greer was holding before, the numbing pain giving him the certainty that a bruise will appear soon enough.

Greer stands. There’s hatred in his eyes as he looks at Young, a threat in the growl that echoes in the hallway. _Leave_ , it seems to say, _you’re in the way_. His nose is broken, Rush belatedly realizes, his body shrinking into himself as he tries to get away, away from that wrong scent, from the alpha’s wrath that’s sure to come.

It’s not needed. A choked sigh leaves Rush as he sees the face of the man who got Greer away from him. He’s seen Young furious many times now, most of them because of him. But this, this is completely different. There’s nothing of that quiet, collected rage he showed right before abandoning Rush, nor the frustration he always shows when confronted by Telford. It takes Rush a moment to realize why it feels so different to his inner omega.

These aren’t the feelings of the Colonel nor the alpha; they’re Everett Young’s, as the simple yet fascinating man he showed himself to be over the course of these past weeks.

Young’s pheromones are even more aggressive than Greer’s, but he’s not afraid. Rush knows that anger isn’t directed at him. He knows he shouldn’t feel so safe behind the alpha, not after everything. Eli keeps reminding him day after day all the reasons Rush couldn’t trust Young, that those quiet, peaceful moments in the control room were nothing but an illusion and soon Young would show him his true face again. _When that time comes_ , Eli reasoned with him, trying to get Rush away from the Colonel, physically and emotionally so, _there’ll be no guarantee that you’ll come back out alive._

But Rush is a stubborn fool. Even more now, when his mind and instincts agreed for what could’ve been the first time since Gloria passed. Young’s not his enemy. This time, he’s the one protecting Rush.

Young doesn’t growl back. Rush knows that’s not what he should be focusing on, but that fact pleases him in a way he can’t quite explain. When he charges forward, fist ready to attack, Rush can’t take his eyes off the alpha. Young reminds Rush of a Big Bang: coming out of nowhere, destroying everything in its wake. Unstoppable, unmovable, invincible.

_Such a beautiful disaster._

Rush knows he needs to do something. He needs to call for help, for anyone to stop them before Young actually kills Greer. But if before he doubted there was anyone capable of going against Greer’s power, now he’s sure there’s no stopping Young’s rage. And Rush can’t let go of that deep ingrained fear that, if he finds another alpha in his way, male or female, civilian or military, they’ll do nothing but try to hurt him in the same way Greer did.

He freezes when he hears Young groan in pain. There’s a cut on his forehead; blood drips from the open wound and falls on his eyes. There’s a knife in Greer’s hand. Rush’s not sure when he got it: all he knows is that Greer used it to hurt his—

“Col. Young!” Scott’s voice reaches them before Rush can see him. The beta looks paler than usual, eyes wide at the sight of his superior, someone he thought of as calm and controlled, ready to tear another alpha’s neck open.

Camile is just a step behind Scott. She notices Rush curled up against the wall right away, clothes still a little off place. The alpha’s eyes go wide as she takes in Rush’s scent. Her hands open and close, grab on her clothes and let go again, and her mouth is set in a thin, shuddering line. She takes a deep breath, whispers something to herself before going forward to help Scott keep the other two alphas away from each other.

In that brief moment Rush’s attention got robbed by Camile’s struggle, Scott gained at least three cuts on his face and, given how his arm is bending awkwardly, a broken bone at least. Rush shivers. Just what kind of pain Scott must be feeling now, caught in the middle of a meaningless, unreasonable fight between alphas? A fight caused by Rush no less?

There are arms around him. Tamara looks pale, as though she ran there all the way from the nursery room; Rush leans into the embrace, relish in the soft words of comfort she whispers into his ear. It’s not his fault, he’ll be alright, they’re getting out of here, no one will hurt him. TJ was the only one who truly apologized for forcing him to undergo surgery. She never intended him any harm.

Rush knows he can trust her.

He’s still trembling, a mixture of fear and pain and discomfort. Tamara is checking him for any obvious injury when another person arrives. Rush’s body relaxes instantly at the familiar scent of burnt cinnamon and cedarwood.

“Eli!” Tamara calls out. It only takes a moment before Eli’s by his side, worry clear on his face and scent. “Take him to his room. Then I’ll need you to come back to help me take care of those three hurt bastards,” she instructs with the surety and ease of a true leader. She turns to Rush, “I’ll need you to come to the infirmary later. But don’t leave your room until we’re sure it’s safe.”

Eli nods at her, putting Rush’s arm around his shoulders despite the omega’s complaints. He’s not hurt, just a little shaken, he can walk by himself. They barely take two steps away when they hear a growl. It’s far lower than Greer’s, sounding less threatening and more hurt and betrayed. Rush’s body goes tense, a sudden need to hold close and comfort overcoming his senses.

Rush looks back over his shoulder. Scott’s back turned towards him as he tries to keep Young in place with the only arm he can move now. It’s clear that Young isn’t the one who broke the other one; if it was him, then he’d have no trouble in breaking the other one to reach Rush. Camile’s tying an unconscious Greer’s hands with one of the handcuffs they found on Destiny. They’re strong enough to keep even an alpha at bay. 

People keep coming down the hallways, looking in confusion at the sight before them. Rush doesn’t let himself wonder what that expression on Young’s face means. 

There are more urgent matters to take care of now.

* * *

Rush can’t believe what just happened. He hates that this all is happening to him, hates that he’s the one people will blame for Greer’s loss of control later, hates that he can’t get rid of that wrong scent regardless of how much he scrubs his body clean. He inhales deeply, blinking fast to stop his frustration from showing in the form of tears. He knows there’s only so much he can do about his pheromones at this point. Distress fills the shower stalls in waves. Rush doesn’t know if the lack of other omegas around is a good thing or not. He doesn’t want others cooing at him and throwing half-assed promises of _it’ll get better_. He knows it won’t, especially not if his suspicion is correct. 

But he knows the lack of people who _understand_ is starting to take a toll on his mental health. The only one he could talk to about it is Chloe. The girl is an omega as well, the only one in Destiny aside from Rush, probably the only person who knows the terror Rush went through in the enemy ship. But just the thought of dumping his fears and frustrations on the young and broken Chloe makes his heart ache. She’s the same age as Eli, saw her father die for her and is now in the middle of a conflict she never asked to be a part of. Rush just can’t let her carry that weight too. It’s unfair, _cruel_ , even.

A heavy sigh leaves his lips. He steps out of the stall. Even without those offending pheromones covering his body, he can’t say he ever felt clean with the alien vapor alone. It’s as though something’s missing altogether. That sensation of freshness and relaxation following a thorough, warm bath is missing. Rush closes his mouth shut. He has no reason to complain. If anything, he should be grateful he’s allowed to have this much. 

Rush dries off the best he can before turning to the box TJ left for him. He picks up the bandage first. The cut isn’t as big as he initially thought it’d be. It’s mostly healed now, with scar tissue growing over the damaged skin. Rush isn’t sure how it is on the inside, but he’s positive it’s getting better as well since the pain isn’t nearly as unbearable as it was before. He knows it’s only thanks to Tamara’s work and the alien medication she and Lisa managed to extract from creatures and plants they found on their way as well as Eli’s insistence in checking if he had all three meals a day. 

His fingers work with practiced ease on the healing wound. When that’s finished, he turns to inspect the clothes left for him. Rush refuses to use the same ones he was using earlier that day until they’re thoroughly washed and lacking any scents. His body shivers just imagining having another alpha’s pheromones over him again. _Shoulda thought of that before going out in heat_ , the words repeat over and over again in Rush’s mind. 

The talk with TJ wasn’t anywhere near pleasant, especially not with Young there listening to everything in focused silence. He’s not in heat yet, not really. Their guess is that this state was triggered by the time he was left stranded and only took so long to fully kick in due to all the distress and foreign substances circulating in his body. He’s aware that the time his body suppressed the heat will only make it worse when it actually happens; the fact that his scent is already so strong and that he’s starting to feel the cramps make it clear enough.

Rush never had anything but controlled heats. He never shared them with anyone aside from Gloria, a beta woman who was unable to make it physically less painful. He’s not sure he can go through this alone despite his words in front of Tamara and the others. 

_But is he ready to take that step? Does he trust any of the alphas in Destiny enough to go through with it?_

He shakes his head, focusing back on the task at hand. These clothes are not his, that much is clear. They also don’t belong to any of the military personnel aboard the ship. There’s a sleeveless purple shirt and a pair of jeans Rush’s sure will barely fit him as well as a black hoodie. Chloe. These are Chloe’s clothes. Just one more thing adding to all the reasons Rush adores the younger omega. 

Just as he imagined, the jeans are a bit too tight around his thighs and hips, but it’s not painful. Just weird. The shirt feels even more weird on his body. He isn’t one for low cuts, doesn’t like how much of his chest is exposed now. He puts on the hoodie faster than he probably should considering he’s supposedly still recovering from his surgery. 

Rush sighs for who knows what time that day. It’s not even lunch time yet, and he already feels exhausted to the bone. He’s not sure if he’s ready to see Young after that. He still doesn’t know what to think of that expression, the hurt that felt so foreign in the alpha’s eyes. 

He steels himself for what he knows he can’t avoid anymore. He doesn’t see anyone on the way to the control room. Rush leans against the console. He starts to work, fingers moving over the keys faster than his eyes can follow. It’s better like this. He can focus on something else that’s not the turmoil inside of him this way, especially now that Destiny jumped out of FTL.

He bites his lip. There are two screens in front of him. One of them shows the never-ending emptiness they’re floating around. It shows clearly that this part of the universe lacks any forms of planets and life. Rush has no idea what triggered the ship out of FTL since there are no stargates in their reach. Some undetected issue with the propulsors? Overheating in the machinery? It’s far hotter than before. Either way, there’s only so much he can do to assess the situation while making sure they’ll make out of it alive. He’s afraid there won’t be any way to recharge the ship’s energy, that they won’t last long with the supplies they have right now, especially not with his upcoming heat and the stress put on the crew with the division. 

Rush’s gaze falls on the other screen. It’s a blueprint of all of Destiny’s halls and corridors. Rush has spent the past hour trying to figure out how to separate himself from everyone rather than just shoving the alphas away as Young suggested. He supposes it’s easier this way and it’s also the safest route to go if he wants to avoid any unnecessary confrontations between the crew and Young.

He won’t admit he just wants to lift the alpha’s burden a little. 

“What we got?” Almost like the thought of him conjured the man to appear before him, Young stops by Rush’s side. He’s not looking at him, but the way his jaw is set in a tense line tells him Young isn’t as unaffected by his pre-heat pheromones as he pretends to be. 

“Nothing. There’s nothing here, no stargate, no stars, no planets. We’re in the void,” he answers. Rush hopes Young doesn’t notice how he changes his weight from one foot to the other. Now that they’re alone and the stress caused by Greer subsided, Rush is starting to notice he’s starting to feel the first symptoms of heat. It’s in the churning of his stomach, in the way the hairs of his body rise whenever he hears Young’s voice, and feels his scent. He gulps, despite his throat suddenly feeling too dry to ignore. “Perhaps something escaped our attention when mapping the damages caused by the last attack and it got worse with the travel.”

Young hums in acknowledgment. “Should I send Dr. Brody to check?”

“Please.” 

Young nods, taking a few steps away before turning on his radio. Rush takes in a deeper breath, trying to calm down his body. He can’t let himself fall anymore, not when he doesn’t even know what Young’s truly thinking and feeling. His knuckles turn white with how strong his grip is on the controller, yet it doesn’t feel enough, it’s never enough. Rush barely hears Young’s words, but Brody’s answer manages to gather his attention back to where it needs to be. 

“ _We’re not alone_ ,” is all he says. It’s all they need to dash down the hallways to watch what the crew dubbed the _observatory_. Rush remembers walking in on Chloe practicing yoga here once and finding Eli crouched against one of the seats, hands full of small, not-terribly-tasting fruits. _It’ll be our little secret_. It’s a nice place to be. He doesn’t feel as alone when he’s here. He understands why anyone would want to spend time here. 

But now the place feels completely different when Rush steps in, Young just a step behind him. The multicolored lights of FTL are now replaced with warm tones of yellow. It almost feels like a _dejá vù._ The first time he saw this place like this was also the first time Destiny flew into a star. The absolute thrill that filled Rush back then still resonates within him, with only one difference: this star isn’t supposed to be here.

He wants to put through those people to get a better look, try to understand what the hell is going on. Rush doesn’t take any other step, sensing the presence of other alphas in the room; the shift in some of their pheromones tells Rush they already noticed his scent, yet can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from. He tenses, suddenly feeling too aware of himself, of his state, to be comfortable. 

He turns around, only to come face to face with Young. The alpha’s not much taller than him; in fact, the difference is barely existent. But the elegance with which Young carries himself, the strength showed in the form of strong muscles, the sheer power seeping into his scent—Rush never felt so small in front of the alpha before. The realization doesn’t even bother him as much as it makes him feel that familiar, yet not missed itch in his stomach. 

Rush doesn’t dare speak. It’s not needed, for Young steps aside to give him room to move. Rush doesn’t think twice before taking his leave, heartbeats storming in his ears in time with his hurried steps.

He just found another thing to deal with, after all.

* * *

It’s not nearly as difficult to figure out what’s happened as Rush believed it would be. Destiny dropped out of FTL because it sensed the danger of flying into something not mapped in the data. Rush estimates about a month before Destiny completes the detour and jumps into FTL again. They sent a small team to survey the only planet in their reach—Rush’s mind still can’t wrap around the possibility that that planet and star were created by unnatural means. Part of him wants to go there too and explore, find the differences and nuances that make that planet special. 

He can’t, though. Not with his heat knocking on his door. Rush knows it won’t take more than two days until he’s completely thrown into it, unable to think of anything else but the dull pain and never-ending need. Even now Rush can feel it, the heat slowly creeping up his body and clouding his thoughts. 

He runs his fingers through his hair. He’s still trembling, the image of Young, nothing but power and elegance, seared into his very soul. Rush leans against his bed. A ridiculous amount of pillows and sheets started to appear over it since he came back to Destiny. Most of them are things Eli and Chloe sneaked into his room without anyone noticing, all a means to comfort him. He’s thankful for their effort: it almost feels like one of the nests he built when Gloria was still alive when he shifts into a more comfortable position, legs open wide and not a single piece of clothing on his body.

The main difference is that it’s not his wife’s face that comes to his mind when Rush tentatively touches his cock.

Rush bites his lip. He can feel every callous he gained over the past years brushing against the sensitive head of his cock, the friction making a small groan leave him. It’s good. But not enough. He needs more, more of this feeling, more of the sweet illusion he built for himself. 

He closes his eyes and suddenly he’s not alone anymore. Young is here, watching him with intent focus and barely concealed desire. He’s everything Rush is not, looking at him from above with all the dignity Rush’s naked state won’t allow him.

 _You like this_ , Young’s voice never sounded so sultry before, _you like being watched, you like touching yourself_. Rush’s hand stutters for a moment before resuming its movements. A bead of precum leaks from the head, and another, and another until his fingers are coated in the colorless liquid. He can hear Young’s chuckle, feel the alpha’s breath against his skin. A whine escapes Rush’s lips. His body is trembling, on the cusp of release yet unable to reach it.

 _Oh, Rush, you know it won’t do._ He does. He knows what he needs to do, but how can he do it? How can he conquer this fear? Rush’s eyes open again. He sits up, looking around for something, anything, to help him get what he, _oh_ , so desperately needs.

His eyes catch sight of a mirror near the door. An idea crosses Rush’s mind and makes him shiver as more precum leaks from his cock. He stands up awkwardly; it feels weird to walk around while hard like this. He brings the mirror back to his bed, setting it up against the pillows and sitting down in front of it. Rush takes a deep breath, mentally steeling himself as he spreads his legs again.

At first glance there’s nothing differentiating him from any man. Rush isn’t one to care much about his appearance; vanity won’t take him anywhere nor help him achieve anything. In this moment, however, a wave of pride washes over him as he realizes he doesn’t look bad down there. He wonders if it’ll please his— _the_ alpha. He presses his lips into a thin line, guilty pleasure filling his body at the thought of Young humming in appreciation of his still well-kept appearance. 

He reaches down to touch himself again. The image on the mirror is almost hypnotic. Rush runs his thumb over the underside of his cock, wraps his fingers around it and then lets go again, playing with the head and his balls with the tip of his fingers. His breath comes out in shallow, shuddering pants. _You like touching yourself._

He bites his lip again, gently cupping his balls and lifting them out of the way. His perineum is already glistening with his slick, leaking from the small entrance between the base of his cock and his anus. Rush gulps at the sight. His other hand reaches for his entrance. Rush’s breath hitches when his index finger traces his perineum. He applies some pressure on the tip, feeling how easily he can push it inside the slit. His back arches involuntarily with the added sensation. _You’re really a lotta work._

Rush can’t stop the moan that escapes him. His legs close involuntarily and hot white cum spills onto his chest. He falls back on the many, many pillows. Rush can’t brush back the pleasure and guilt seeping into his heart. To think that he’s here, enjoying himself in such a way on the same day Greer attacked him... _while thinking of Young_.

The radio on his bedside table cracks back to life. “ _Rush._ ” He shudders at the sound of Young’s voice. He has to put a hand on his mouth to stop any embarrassing sound. It’s bad enough that Young will be able to _smell_ it on him later; Rush refuses to have anything more to dwell on. “ _They’re back_.”

He reaches for the radio, pausing for a moment to even his breath. “I’m on my way. And, Young... We need to talk.”

* * *

Rush bites his lip, leaning over the console Eli claimed as his. He can see the star from here. The light reminds him of lazy mornings at the porch of his house, with a warm cup of coffee and the notes of a violin filling the silence with happiness. If he closes his eyes, Rush can still hear Gloria’s giggles, see the strength coursing through her arms and filling the melody. It’s a good memory, one he holds dear in his heart. No matter what they thought, Rush loved his wife more than anything in the world. He never cared about her status as a beta just as he never gave attention to those venomous comments that reminded them of all the things they couldn’t give each other.

Rush gulps. Gloria’s always been a gentle and selfless woman. But it still doesn’t erase the guilt churning inside Rush. _Will you forgive me?_

“There you are!” Eli’s cheerful voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Rush huffs softly at the sight of the alpha in military clothes. The smile he receives in return tells him Eli knows exactly what he’s thinking. “Yeah, I know, not that trendy. Darth Vader had a better sense of fashion.”

“I’ll pretend I know what Darth Vader is,” Rush retorts, leaning back against the chair. He crosses his arms and looks up at a flabbergasted Eli.

“Lord of darkness? Star Wars? Best movies ever? Lightsabers? _Luke, I am your father_?” Eli throws one question after the other, his hands swaying from one side to the other as though emulating a sword. Rush can’t stop the chuckles that leave him at the childish act. “No, like, for real? You’re a professor! Surrounded by lots of Gen Z kids! How the hell have you _never_ heard of Vader?”

“I had actually important things to do, Eli.” Rush shakes his head. It’s almost funny how much his hair grew since Icarus. The tips are brushing his collarbone now.

“Ouch! Pop culture is important too, y’know. There’s nothing better to bond over.” Despite his words, it’s clear that Eli’s not bothered. His scent drifts around Rush with a hint of amusement and relief. “Are you okay?”

Rush’s gaze goes back to the star floating so far and yet so close to them. He uncrosses his arms, sitting with his back straight again. His smile disappeared, giving way to a slight frown. “It doesn't hurt. But I can feel... It’s starting to affect me. Or it started long ago but I didn’t notice with all the distress.”

He doesn’t like how his words come out slow and unsure, but understands there’s nothing to be done about it. That’s how he feels, after all: lost and afraid.

Eli sighs. He places a hand on Rush’s shoulder. The omega leans against the touch, instinctively seeking for the scent gland on Eli’s wrist. “You know that’s not what I meant.” There’s no reprimand in his voice.

“I know,” Rush agrees, closing his eyes for a moment. “TJ’s right, Eli. I can’t do this alone. My heats were always painful even under the effect of suppressants. This is just...” He bites his lip again. Eli doesn’t say anything, just waiting for him. “I need this.” _I need Young, his help, his care, his everything._

The silence between them stretches for a moment too long. Rush shifts in place, lips pressed as he waits. There’s a sigh, and Eli kneels by his side. The alpha’s hands hold Rush’s with the delicacy and care one would only give to something they really love.

“I trust you.” Those three words are all he says, yet they mean the world to Rush. He nods, afraid he’ll stutter if he tries to answer him. Eli smiles, places a kiss on the back of Rush’s hand before reaching for the kino resting on the console.

“Eli!” Chloe pauses at the door. She’s dressed similarly to Eli, although the jacket looks a little too big on her. “Time to go.”

“Yeah, I’m good to go.” Eli throws the kino in the air before catching it again as he stands up. He looks at Rush with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “And, Rush, if that troglodyte _dares_ hurt you again, all I need to do is poison him to death.”

Rush’s laugh echoes behind the alpha and omega pair as they dash down the hallways to what could be their best chance at freedom, as fleeting as it may be. 

_He’ll be alright_.

* * *

“You wanted to talk,” Young sounds almost casual, but Rush can hear the underlying nervousness in his voice.

They’re in the observatory again. This time there’s no one preventing Rush from reaching the place he wants to be. He leans against the rails, eyes trained on the star in front of them. He can’t help but be fascinated at its beauty, even though it’s been over an entire day since they first saw it. He’s not scared of being attacked anymore, for Young is the only alpha left. He doesn’t mind it nearly as much as he thought he would.

 _Young’s the only alpha Rush wants to stay, after all_.

He turns to look at the alpha. Young still looks ridiculously strong and big but here, under the sunlight, he also looks _beautiful_. Rush wonders what it’ll be like to go to sleep and wake with that beautiful light. It’s the first time his side of the ship will face the star, after all. And to have such a blessing right on the time of his presumably first and last heat in the space... 

“There are some things I want to make clear... before my heat starts tomorrow.” His voice sounds firm despite the way his heart beats almost frantically in his chest. 

Young’s body stiffens at this. Rush can’t tell for sure what he’s feeling; the alpha’s expression is unreadable and Rush’s pheromones are too strong now to let him feel his scent. There’s a long pause before Young turns completely to look at him, “Well, as you can see, I’m all ears.”

“First,” Rush gulps, looking at the alpha’s uniform instead of his eyes. He can’t go back now. “I still hate Col. Young. For everything. I’ll never trust him with anything, much less my heat.”

 _Ah_ , there it is again. That small, pained look in Young’s eyes. It’s obvious that he cares now. He cares about what Rush thinks, what he feels. Rush wants to knows how far it’ll go. Young’s an alpha, and a strong one at that. Will he be able to step back and respect Rush’s wish? Will he argue with him, use the situation to try and convince him? Will he just force himself onto Rush just as Greer did?

“Very well,” he says at last. “What’s the second thing?”

Rush bites the inside of his cheek. This isn’t the answer he expected, but it’s still good, right? Young’s not making any mention of forcing him to do anything. For an alpha standing so close to an omega in the last stage of pre-heat, he’s doing an amazing job holding himself back. “I’ll need a clear route between my room and the shower stalls. And I don’t wanna run into any of the betas aboard the ship during my heat.”

He needs to repeat to himself that he’s not being conceited or selfish. It’s just so no one else will have to see him walking around covered in sweat, slick and cum. He wants to preserve his dignity as much as possible. 

“That can be arranged. I’ll tell Brody and Lisa about it,” Young agrees right away. 

“Third, _no one_ touches my console. I’m serious on this one. I don’t want others finding my secret.” Rush crosses his arms in front of his chest. This time he can feel a whiff of amusement coming from Young’s scent.

“Afraid someone will find your porn, Rush?” the alpha teases him. Young’s shoulders visibly relax at the conversation’s change of tone.

“What if it is?” Rush arches an eyebrow. He takes a step forward, effectively entering Young’s reach. “You wanna see me like that so badly, Colonel?”

Young’s expression falters. Rush sees all the emotions flickering on his face, from surprise to desire to utter disbelief. He takes a step aside; Rush’s sure he heard a _fuck_ coming from the ever so calm commander. Something in the way Young utters the word makes him shift uncomfortably. What an amazing place to be turned on again.

“Is that all?” Young asks. There’s an edge in his voice that has absolutely nothing to do with anger. A wave of pride washes over Rush: _He_ made it happen.

“There’s one more thing.” Rush takes a deeper breath. Young looks at him expectantly; _hopeful_ , even. For what, Rush can only guess. “I hate _Col._ Young, but I don’t know anything about _Everett_ Young.” He pauses, considering, before adding: “You know where to find me.”

He turns around, his steps echoing in the observatory as he heads to the hallways, leaving behind a wide eyed Youn—no, _Everett_.

“Thank you,” Everett’s voice reaches him before he leaves the room, _“Nicholas._ ”

Nicholas pauses at the door. He bites his lip, looking over his shoulder at the alpha, “Don’t waste this chance.”

 _You won’t have another one, Everett_.


	3. Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost: Happy birthday, Talla! I hope you had the bestest day just as you deserve!  
> Hope you can find joy in this too. And that this chapter fulfills everything you wished for this fic. I had a really great time writing this!  
> Kissus ♥

There’s one thing people often misunderstand about being a soldier: it’s not a position of power, nor a dream coming true. A soldier is nothing but a marionette for those giving the others; a soldier is just a symbol of hate for those affected by those orders. There’s no freedom, no relief and nowhere to run. It’s a job that changes you, breaks you, until there’s nothing of the person you used to be.

Everett once dreamed of changing the world. He’d protect his people, make a peaceful home for his fated mate and children. It’s what the military does: they protect and pave the road to a better future. Then he was the one holding the gun and its bullets shattered his dreams. Death, pain and despair clouded Everett’s view of future and before he knew it he was building up walls around his heart.

People often questioned how Col. Young managed it. The answer is always the same: _it’s part of the job_. What else could he say? That he doesn’t know what else he could do? That he can’t see a way out? That he hates the person he’s become? No—all that’s left for him are the lies that make him who he is now.

_I hate Col. Young_ , Nicholas’s words echo in his mind. Those words shouldn’t hurt as much as they did. He expected this. He’s only reaping what he sow. _But I don’t know anything about Everett Young._ But does Everett even know himself? Can he truly separate the human he is from the commander he performs? Is there any difference at this point?

There has to be. No matter how blurry and thin that line is, Everett needs to find it. Rush, no, _Nicholas_ wants to know him, whatever’s left of him. Everett wants to give him this, wants to be the alpha Nicholas deserves even if only for the duration of this pseudo-heat. It’s the least he can do to start compensating for all the damage he caused.

A sigh escapes Everett’s lips. His gaze falls on the box in front of him. Food, water bottles, washcloths, basin, sheets, clothes and a small bottle Everett’s sure he’ll need. He knows it’s not much, barely enough to last three full days of heat. The food is far from good, mostly ration bars and some of the bitter fruits they grew in the laboratory. He can only hope he can avoid getting both of them dehydrated. Everett can’t happen but imagine all the ways those robes could be uncomfortable for Nicholas’s oversensitive skin. Will Nicholas even allow Everett to clean him between the waves of his heat?

He gulps. Everett knows it’s his anxiety talking, but he can’t help it. There’s too much to lose, especially for Everett. He doesn’t want to imagine a world where Nicholas hates him for the rest of their lives. Young isn’t ready to deal with that possibility, not when he still has a chance to make things right.

_His last chance._

Everett grits his teeth. He takes the box into his hands, turning around to head towards the omega’s room. He doesn’t see anyone on his way. Everett wonders if it’s because of the early hour or if the crew is just trying to avoid the area around Nicholas’s room. He’s grateful either way, both for the false sense of privacy and the uncertainty of what his inner alpha would do if anyone tried to get to his omega. His finger knuckles are still sore from the fight with Greer, carefully wrapped with a clean bandage.

His steps comes to a halt when he takes a new turn. Nicholas’s door is right in front of him, the last barrier between him and the omega who turned his whole life upside down. Everett takes a deep breath, shifting his grip on the box so he can knock on the metal. He waits, everything around him becoming silent. There’s no way Nicholas doesn’t know who it is. His answer is the final word, a decision Everett promised himself he’d respect regardless of what it was.

“Everett?” Nicholas’s voice sounds breathless even through the double metal door. Everett releases the breath he didn’t notice he was holding. The scent of _omega_ and _Nicholas_ are thick enough to make his head dizzy. His omega, in heat. His omega, calling out his name.

The door opens before Everett realizes he’s the one who oppened it. He steps into the room. It’s completely different from what he remembers. There’s no multicolored lights making the room dark blue. There’s only the warm yellow of the star. Everett only has half a mind to put the box down on one of tables; all his senses are focused on the omega.

Nicholas lies surrounded by a mountain of pillows. His body glows under the sunlight, pale gold covering every expense of exposed skin. A thin layer of sweat coats Nicholas’s forehead and torso. The omega’s thighs are pressed together in an obvious attempt to find relief. His scent fills the room in waves, strong enough Everett can taste it. He can’t contain a shiver when his eyes meet the the omega’s. Nicholas’s eyes are dark with desire, an expression perfectly framed by his long strands. Everett wants to card his fingers through Nicholas’s hair and find for himself if they’re indeed as soft as they look.

“Alpha,” Nicholas calls in a small voice. He reaches for Everett, something akin to agony furrowing his brows.

Everett doesn’t miss a beat before holding Nicholas’s hand between his. He lowers himself to his knees, waiting for any sign that he can enter the nest. Everett brushes his thumb over the back of Nicholas’s hand. The omega’s fingers and palms are full of calluses and old scars. Everett wishes he could know the story behind them. Are they from an old work? Did he have someone to help him at the time? Or has Nicholas always been this lonely, reserved omega who refuses to admit his pain?

Have they always been two of the same?

He presses his lips to the omega’s hand once, twice, mapping each and every single mark that told him a small piece of Nicholas’s hidden past. Everett’s eyes never leave Nicholas’s face, watching every minuscule change in the omega’s expression. Nicholas’s scent quivers, the bitter thread os fear and worry dissipating which new kiss. His shoulders relax as well, unintentionally exposing more of his scent gland.

A wave of satisfaction washes over Everett’s body. His omega isn’t scared of him, not now, not as an alpha. Everett’s eyes flutter close when Nicholas’s fingers caress his cheeks, the touch almost feather-light against his skin. Retribution. A small taste of what he’s ready to offer the alpha.

Nicholas lowers his gaze to the alpha’s chest. Everett’s hands tremble as he takes his shirt off. Nicholas exhales softly at the display, his fingers touching the newly exposed skin with a mixture of interest and arousal in his eyes. Every spot Nicholas touches is set ablaze with the growing need inside Everett. His breath sounds heavy to his own ears and Everett can’t ignore the tightness of his pants anymore.

He touches himself over the fabric, the pressure enough to make him groan. Everett looks up at Nicholas, mouth open in a silent plea. The omega’s fingers curls around the back of Everett’s neck and pulls him towards the nest. Everett doesn’t resist, simply following his omega’s wish. He leans over Nicholas’s body, one hand on each side of his head, and waits.

Everett can almost feel Nicholas’s heart beating against his ribcage. His cheeks are colored a warm shade of pink, partially hidden by the messily growing beard. His lips part, soft pants escaping him. Nicholas’s hands shake where they touch Everett’s body. There’s uncertainty in his eyes, his body language. Everett wonders why this now, what’s holding the omega back so far into his heat? Everett knows any other omega would’ve made him undress completely before joining the nest, but not Nicholas.

His eyes widen when realization finally hits him. Nicholas’s hesitance, his fear, the wavering confidence with which he confronted Everett the day before... Everett always wondered, but knowing that he was _right_ , the no other alpha had a taste of Nicholas’s heat made his cock twitch in desire.

Everett tries to make his own body relax. His pheromones surround them in comforting, calming notes. He see the moment Nicholas’s eyes flutter close, his grip on Everett’s neck becoming firmer. The alpha closes his eyes and presses his lips against Nicholas’s. It’s softer than any kiss Everett ever had the chance to experiment yet thrilling enough to make all the hairs in his body rise in anticipation.

Nicholas sighs against his lips, hands travelling up and down his shoulders. Everett shifts so he can settle between Nicholas’s legs. His knee brushes against one of the omega’s thighs and Everett growls as the wetness seeps into his jeans. If Nicholas already like this, Everett can only imagine how it is inside of him. What will it be like to thrust into him, feel him cum around Everett’s knot?

He pushes his tongue into Nicholas’s mouth at the same time the omega’s wandering hands grope his ass. Everett shakes at the feeling. He’s used to be the one feeling his partners up, especially when it comes down to such intimate areas. But, even more surprisingly than Nicholas’s boldness, Everett doesn’t mind it. He _wants_ it. As long as it’s Nicholas, he realizes, he’ll take everything the omega gives him.

“Alpha _,_ ” Nicholas whispers against his lips. His voice sounds completely different from usual, low and bordering sensual. “Everett, please...”

“What?” Everett asks, breathless. “What do you want Nicholas?”

The question makes Nicholas pause. His brows furrow again and his lips curve slightly downwards. Everett doubts Nicholas’s seeing his collarbone despite his intent stare. The omega’s hands are back on Everett’s shoulder, nails digging into the alpha’s skin. He’s almost sure he won’t get an answer—not verbal, at least, for the way Nicholas’s scent grew heavier after the kiss tells Everett everything he needs to know—when the omega speaks again, his answer stealing Everett’s breath:

“You.”

Simply as that, three single letters managed to do what no one could. Everett kisses Nicholas again, demanding and all-consuming as his own hands touch the omega’s body. This way Nicholas won’t ask the reason for that lonely tear running down his cheek. This way he can focus on what he can do to make his omega feel good and wanted.

Nicholas parts the kiss, head falling back on the pillow as heavy pants escape him. Everett’s attention turns to the omega’s completely exposed neck. He covers sun-kissed skin with lovebites and hickeys. Nicholas’s throat vibrates under Everett’s lips with each new moan. Everett allows himself all the time in the world to enjoy his omega’s taste, admire the blossoming red marks under the sunlight.

“Beautiful,” the word leaves him before he can think of it. He doesn’t mind it, though. It’s nothing but the truth. Everett’s fingers trail down Nicholas’s chest, lightly brushing against one of his perk nipples. Everett can’t stop a smirk at the way the omega arches into his touch. “Feeling good already?”

Nicholas glares at him. The anger gives place to pleasure as Everett pinches and twists his nipple between his fingers. He bites his lip, then smiles. It’s that smug, challenging smile that always make Everett’s mad for more reasons than one. “Could be better... Or is that all you can do, alpha?”

Everett growls, leaning down just to have the satisfaction of kissing that smirk off the omega’s lips. He knows Nicholas’s just teasing him, one last desperate attempt at having the upper hand again. This is one thing they have in common, after all: the need for control, to have the last word in the matter regardless of what it’s all about. Nicholas is still scared, not of Everett, but of the things he doesn’t know and can’t control.

He kisses Nicholas’s lips, his cheeks, the curve of his jaw, making a trail down his neck and chest until his breath hits the omega’s oversensitive nipple. Everett presses wet kisses all around the area, takes the nipple in his mouth and under his tongue. Delight fills his body as Nicholas’s moans get higher and longer.

He gives the other nipple the same treatment, a satisfied smile curving his lips as they redden under his touches. Everett’s lips go to Nicholas’s neck again, brushing over his scent gland. There’s something so stupidly arousing and satisfying in knowing he could just sink his teeth into Nicholas’s gland and take the omega as his if he just wanted to. There wouldn’t be any resistance, not with how over his head Nicholas seems to be with pleasure. Nicholas is right here, under Everett’s complete mercy, and it’d be so _easy_...

But he can’t. No matter how much Everett wishes Nicholas was his omega, now and forever, he can’t betray the omega’s trust in him. No, if that happens, if they become mates one day, Everett wants it to come from Nicholas, not from an induced heat he can’t stop and control. He wants it to be real, something that’ll last until the end of their days. Something deeper and purer than anything he had before, more than anything he’s had with Tamara and, he dares say, his own wife.

Everett presses one last kiss to Nicholas’s neck before pulling himself down. He sits on his own legs, full attention on the omega’s leaking cock and the slick flowing underneath his testicles. He gently puts both hands on Nicholas’s thighs, only to let go at the sound of a low, uncomfortable groan. Nicholas tries to close his legs when Everett’s hand is gone and a distressed whine escapes him when he realizes it’s impossible with the alpha sitting between them.

“Are you okay?” he asks, face furrowed in concern. Nicholas doesn’t answer, refusing to do as much as look at him. Everett sighs, taking the omega’s chin between his fingers and forcing to look at him. “I need you to tell me if you feel pain. I don’t wanna hurt you, Nicholas, but you need to be honest with me. Can you do that?”

Nicholas nods at his words; his eyes shine with something Everett recognizes right away. His expression softens and he brushes his fingers against Nicholas’s cheeks. The omega’s face is redder than before, the blush spreading to his ears and neck. “It’s okay. There’s no need to be ashamed.”

“I _ken_.” The omega relaxes a little at his words. The tension is still there, knowing there’s no escaping this now. Nicholas blinks. Only then Everett realizes his eyelashes are humid. “I know, I just—” Nicholas gulps, fighting to find the right words through the hazy of heat clouding his mind. “I’m scared. Don’t wanna be alone.”

The admission sits heavy between them, far too heavy to be just about his body. Everett’s body tenses and he grits his jaw. He knows what this is about. Nicholas’s scared he’ll be left alone again; abandoned, for not living up to another’s expectations, for not being what people want him to be.

It’s all his fault.

“I know.” He smiles, reassuring, “I didn’t lie. You _are_ beautiful. There’s nothing in you that would make me wanna go away.”

Nicholas pauses, considering. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. Everett can’t help but grow anxious at the omega’s hesitance. Nicholas puts his hand above Everett’s, softly carressing the alpha’s fingers. “What about in _you_?”

The question takes Everett off-guard. He should’ve expected it. Everett inhales deeply, gathering the courage to say the words he’s wanted to say for weeks now. “Nicholas, I know I failed you too many times to deserve your forgiveness, but I promise you won’t ever be alone again and there’s nowhere I’d rather be now.”

Nicholas bites his lip, nodding stiffly. He doesn’t look at Everett’s eyes. It’s more than enough for him to know that it won’t be so easy, that words alone won’t make Nicholas trust him. All those fights, the anger and distaste that permeated most of their relationship since they arrived at Destiny can’t be erased so easily, especially not when both were to blame in all of them. Be it for their lack of communication or the simple unwillingness to reliquinsh control, there’s no denying those stains in their story.

Everett doesn’t let himself wallow in doubt now. He turns his attention back to gently spreading Nicholas’s legs. There’s no resistance this time. Everett bites his lip as once again he’s reminded of how much male omegas’ bodies differ from those of female betas. Everett touches the tip of Nicholas’s cock, smearing pre-cum around the head. Nicholas groans, subtly bucking his hips into the alpha’s touch.

“Turn around,” he commands, voice low and deep with pleasure, “present for your alpha, omega.”

Nicholas’s grits his teeth, hands shaking with quiet humiliation and burning arousal. He moves without a single word, lying with his head buried on one of the many pillows and ass high in the air. Everett’s breath stutters as he finally has a clear view of Nicholas’s slicking slit. It’s smaller than he imagined and, _oh_ , he’s sure it’ll feel so much better than anything he had before.

“What in hell—Ngh!” Nicholas throws his head back, a shudder coursing through his entire body.

A smile tugs at the corners of Everett’s lips. He keeps Nicholas’s hips firm in place with both hands as he brushed his tongue against the omega’s slit a second time. He doesn’t want his little omega to run away, after all. Everett keeps kissing and licking and sucking on Nicholas’s entrance until he pushes the tip of his tongue inside. Just that small insertion brings forth a violent shudder upon the omega’s body. Nicholas’s hands fist around the sheets as he releases, a low “ _Fuck!_ ” escaping through gritted teeth.

Everett leans away just enough to see the mess he made of the omega. There’s a real smile on his face now. Everett shakes his head slightly. “Sweet. Want more?”

His words make a low moan escape Nicholas’s throat. Everett caresses the small of Nicholas’s back with one hand while he pushes down his pants and underwear with the other. A sigh of relief escapes him as his cock jumps free of the uncomfortable clothes. He gives a long, firm stroke, knowing that Nicholas can see it with the way his torso contorts slightly on the bed.

Everett bites his lip. He wants nothing more than to bury himself inside Nicholas, but just the idea of hurting the omega makes his heart drop. His gaze inevitably falls on the box he brought with him. He turns his attention back to Nicholas. “Stay here.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I have _many_ places I’d love to go now,” Nicholas retorts without missing a beat. Everett blinks at omega, mouth hanging open in shock. He shakes his head, deciding that Eli’s finally rubbing off on Nicholas.

Everett stands up, kicking the remaining clothes off on his way to the box. He retrives the small bottle he brought with it. It’s a small gift from Lisa, something she’s been working on for weeks now and deemed Everett worthy of being the first to try out. He walks back to the bed, pouring some of the bottle’s content on his fingers. It’s different from the lube they had back at Earth. Everett finds the smell is far from pleasant and it’s thicker than the brands the alpha liked to use. It’s enough to guarantee Nicholas won’t feel any unnecessary pain.

He takes in the image of the omega in front of him. There’s a tension in Nicholas’s body that speaks louder than a thousand words. Everett holds the omega’s hips with one hand while he presses a slickery finger inside Nicholas’s slit. The reaction is immediate: a pained moan escapes Nicholas as he tries to get away from the intruding finger. Everett doesn’t need to see his face to knows that Nicholas’s jaw is set on a firm line.

Everett stops and waits, mentally counting the seconds. It doesn’t take long before Nicholas starts relaxing again. Everett shifts his finger slowly, curving the tip slightly. He pulls it in and out, always pressing his fingertip against Nicholas’s inner walls. He takes his time exploring Nicholas’s tight slit despite the growing impatience in the omega’s scent. Nicholas bucks his hips slightly, trying to get more of that feeling.

A smile curves Everett’s lips. He lets go of the omega’s hips, knowing Nicholas won’t try to run away. He gently wraps his fingers around Nicholas’s cock at the same time he carefully inserts a second digit. Trembling sighs and stuttering moans leave the omega’s lips with the incresingly steady pace of Everett’s fingers. Everett’s strokes on Nicholas’s dick become slower the more Nicholas’s voice rises.

Everett doesn’t want Nicholas to come so soon. He wants to drive the omega to the edge, wants to see him be reduced to a begging, shaken mess under his hands. He wants to engrave this day in Nicholas’s memory so he’ll never forget who’s the one who gave him so much pleasure.

It doesn’t matter what the world says: Nicholas is _his_ omega and Everett will make sure he knows that.

A loud, muffled moan cuts Everett’s thoughts. Nicholas’s face is completely buried in the pillow, teeth almost cutting through the fabric. Everett barely realizes he already has three fingers deep inside the omega, so entranced he is by the way Nicholas’s strands fall around his face. His hair gives off a golden light that makes him look like a fallen angel rather than a human.

Everett pulls his fingers out of him. Nicholas whines at the loss, bitter distress filling his scent as Everett starts pouring more of the makeshift lube on his cock. A string of questions flashes before his mind as he lines himself with Nicholas’s entrance. _Is this enough? You won’t be hurt? You won’t tell me to stop? Is this really alright?_

_Do you want me as much as I want you?_

He pushes his cock inside. Everett’s entire body trembles with with desire. Nicholas is so, so much tighter than Everett could ever dream of. He throws his head back, mouth open in a silent moan. He can’t remember the last time he felt such intense pleasure. Everett isn’t even sure if he ever felt something like this. His thoughts are all over the place, a scattered mess from which he can only understand _Nicholas, Nicholas, Nicholas._

_Mine._

Everett inhales a shaky breath, fingers digging into the skin of Nicholas’s hips. He lets one of his hands roam free up Nicholas’s back. He can feel the tension under soft skin. The feeling helps him ground himself, almost a reminder that the omega under him is real and not just another illusion of his mind. And, more than that, reminds Everett of all the reasons he has to hold back. Everett promised he wouldn’t hurt this, _his_ omega.

This is for Nicholas.

Only Nicholas.

“Relax.” His voice is nothing but a whisper. Everett leans over Nicholas’s body, chest pressed against the omega’s skin. Nicholas’s scent is even more intoxicating this close and the warmth of his skin sets Everett’s heart on fire. “It’ll just hurt more if you stay like this.”

“ _Cannae_ ,” Nicholas groans against the pillow. Everett can only barely make out the shape of the omega’s lips with his hair covering his face. He brushes Nicholas’s hair away to expose his eyes. “S-So big...”

Everett bites his lip. Part of him is overjoyed at backhanded compliment. The other worries it’s too much for Nicholas. He needs to find a way, any way, to ease the omega.

He’s too far gone to stop now.

He places small, fleeting kisses all over Nicholas’s shoulders. Everett releases the most soothing pheromones he can muster. He wraps his hands around the omega’s cock while the other finds Nicholas’s perk nipple. Nicholas’s body goes still before a long, dragged out moan escapes him. Everett moves his hands slowly, pressing just right to make Nicholas tremble. A small wave of hips brings a smile to Everett’s lips.

“Look at you,” Everett says over Nicholas’s shoulder. He countinues pushing his cock inside, filling the omega a little more with each new word. “You like this, don’t you? You like being touched. You _want_ to be touched.”

“Shut up!” Nicholas shivers. Everett can feel it, under him, around his cock. He likes this. It’s clear in the way his body further relaxes under Everett, in the sweeter notes drifting in his scent—it only makes he want to tease him more.

“Tell me, Nicholas.” Everett presses his lips against Nicholas’s ear. He runs his thumb over the head of the omega’s cock, smearing Nicholas’s cum all over. “You thought about this, didn’t you? Did you touch yourself? Did you think of me, omega?”

His questions get no answer. Nicholas’s back arches into Everett’s embrace. Their hips are completely joined now. Everett starts moving, his thrusts slow and careful. He doesn’t try to hold his moans back. He wants Nicholas to hear them just as much as Everett wants to hear the omega’s.

Even if someone asked him, Everett wouldn’t know who searched for the other first. The kiss is messy and needier than anything up to now. Everett swallows Nicholas’s moans. His touch never ceases, dragging the omega closer to the edge with each passing second.

Everett’s movements stutter, his growing knot making it harder to thrust into Nicholas. He bites his lip. He’s getting close to his release faster than he’d like to. He wonders if it’s because of the long months that left him touch-starved or if it’s solely the effect of Nicholas, an omega, on him. Everett drags his teeth over the omega’s jaw and neck. He lets go of Nicholas’s swollen nipples to hold his hands instead. Their fingers intertwine in a perfect fit. The hand around Nicholas’s cock moving faster to match Everett’s thrusts.

“ _Ugh_ , Everett, I—” Nicholas struggles to find his words. His face is colored in red and tears gather in the corners of his eyes. He’s beautiful, almost stupidly so.

He kisses his shoulder, trying to sooth him. “Come for me, Nicholas.”

That’s all it’s needed. Nicholas _screams_ with Everett’s last thrust. He comes on the sheets, some of his sperm covering Everett’s fingers. He becomes tighten around the alpha’s cock. Everett groans. His knot locks him inside the omega and he reaches his orgasm soon after. He trembles, body all but falling atop the omega.

Everett can’t remember a time where he felt so satisfied. The knowledge that this is all because of Nicholas makes the whole experience feel like something out of his dirtiest dreams. He sighs, rearranging their positions so they’re both lying on their sides. Everett nuzzles into the back of Nicholas’s neck.

“You’re really a lotta work, huh,” he mumbles. Everett’s unsure why, but Nicholas starts laughing at those words. His voice echoes throughout the room, a thousand bells united in one single voice. “What?” Everett’s lips curve into a smile.

Nicholas shakes his head. His scent swifts wavers with amusement. Even without seeing his face, Everett knows he’s smiling. “Rest well, Everett.”

_He will_.

* * *

There’s one thing about Nicholas that never changes: he’s the most stubborn person Everett knows by far.

The omega remains mostly pliant through the days, but Nicholas shows himself to be far more demanding and bossy than Everett could’ve expected. It takes a lot of persuasion—Nicholas is adamant about not wanting to be alone in his nest, after all—but he allows Everett to clean and feed him every time his knot subsides under a simple condition. It’s a true challenge to carry Nicholas around the room and take care of him, but Everett is nothing but a stubborn fool himself.

It’s worth it when he lays Nicholas back on the bed. The way the omega shifts and curls into himself, nuzzling pillows Everett carefully scented makes his inner alpha swell with pride. Never once did Nicholas complain about pain. He didn’t try to push Everett away either, in and out of sex.

His omega is content, and that’s more than he could ask for.

Everett sighs, stretching his sore limbs. It’s only the fourth day, yet he’s thoroughly exhausted. He doubts there’s any unmarked spot on his back at this point. Of all things, he never thought the omega would be into scratching. It turns Everett on more than anything.

He looks at Nicholas. His hair looks almost golden under the sunlight. There’s a slight flush on his cheeks that tells Everett this heat is still far from done. A few days ago he’d fight his urge to touch Nicholas. He doesn’t need to. Not as long as he’s just Nicholas’s _Everett_. He smiles, gently brushing his fingertips against the omega’s cheeks.

Everett doesn’t know how long he stays like this, touching and admiring and memorizing every curve, every trace that makes this face Nicholas’s. Time is concept too far for him to grasp in its entirety. All there is now is Nicholas, his rival, his omega, his lover.

His gaze softens when Nicholas’s eyes flutter open. Everett can’t help but be amused. Nicholas almost looks like a cat waking up. Hazelnut eyes squint at him before the omega relaxes again. He nuzzles into Everett’s touch, shifting closer to the alpha’s body. Everett hates that he can’t find any word to describe him except _adorable_.

“Morning,” Everett says. Nicholas only groans back. Despite always being the first wake up every day, during his heat Nicholas couldn’t be farther from a morning person. It’s endearing in a way Everett can’t quite explain. “Ready to have a proper shower?”

Everett knows there’s only so much he can do with the washcloths. Heats and ruts are known especially for the amount of sweat and pheromones, after all. He wants Nicholas to spend at least one day without the grim of heat covering his skin. Everett himself wants to _feel_ clean.

A heavy sigh leaves Nicholas’s lips. He sits on the bed. Everett can see all the marks he left on the omega now—lovebites, hickeys, scratch marks. Pink, red and purple cover every inch of Nicholas’s torso and down his thighs. Each mark stands out against pale skin like a flower blooming on a canvas. It’s a beautiful sight meant for only Everett to see.

Nicholas stretches his arms. Everett gives Nicholas a basket with towels and a few more items before wrapping his arms around Nicholas. He lifts him in one swift motion, far too used to it by now. Everett pulls one of the only clean enough sheets, putting it around both him and Nicholas. He doesn’t want to go through the hassle of putting on their clothes yet the idea of anyone, beta or not, seeing his Nicholas makes his blood boil in anger.

Everett left strict orders for the betas to stay off the way from Nicholas’s room to the shower stalls. He hums in satisfaction when he realizes they followed his commands dutifully. He only needs to walk a few minutes, the closest room by far. Nicholas chose his room for that very reason, Everett believes. This way there’s little to no chance at encountering an alpha on the way. Everett appreaciates the omega’s care as well.

He closes the door behind him. Nicholas glares at the floor when his feet touch it for the first time in days. Everett bites back a chuckle. It’s colder than usual. No wonder Nicholas is displeased by the temperature.

“Want me to—?” He doesn’t finish his question. Nicholas places one finger on Everett’s lips. His brows are furrowed, something akin to irritation flickering in his eyes.

“Everett,” he utters in the sternest tone he used since the start of his heat. “I’m pretty sure this shouldn’t even be a question at this point.”

Nicholas is right. He always is, even if Everett refuses to admit it. A small nod makes Nicholas’s expression soften. He’s not smiling, not yet, but it’s clear that he’s pleased with the alpha’s compliance. He holds Everett’s hands, gently guiding him towards one of the stalls.

There’s no water. Instead, a cloud of misty surrounds their bodies. Everett still can’t believe how warm it is, the substance condensing into droplets covering his skin. It’s different from what they had in Earth, but Everett would be lying if he said it’s not pleasant.

The silence that stretches between them is a comfortable one, only interrupted by Nicholas’s occacional humming. Everett’s been to far too many fancy dinner to not recognize the melody: _Four Seasons_ , by Vivaldi. Everett wonders if Nicholas enjoys classical music or did it come from someone close to him? There’s no answer to that question and Everett doesn’t ask either, afraid he’ll break the moment.

Everett runs his hands over Nicholas’s back. There’s no soap they can use yet, but he can at least massage the omega a little. He wants to make Nicholas feel comfortable and relaxed even though they’re away from his nest. Safe. Everett’s fingertips trace the shape of every mark he left on the omega. His gaze falls on the side of Nicholas’s neck. He had to force himself not to bite the omega many times during the heat. Even now, with his head mostly clear from any sexual desire, Everett’s claiming fangs itch to pierce through skin and make Nicholas his for once and all.

“I’m glad.” Nicholas’s voice pulls him out of his his thoughts. Everett blinks, trying to grasp the meaning of those words. He wonders if his confusion showed on his scent. Nicholas chuckles, not even turning to look at him. “You’re actually quite slow, aren’t you?”

Everett frowns in response. Part of him is downright offended, but the other, bigger part is just happy that Nicholas can say things like this with no any fear. They aren’t enemies anymore. If anything, Everett hopes, they’re closer to _friends_. He doesn’t say anything, deciding humoring the omega is better than go against him.

Nicholas turns around to look at him. His lips are curved in a slight smile and his eyes glisten with an emotion Everett can’t properly describe. Everett unconsciously holds his breath. A few strands are wet and sticking to Nicholas’s forehead. Everett brushes them away from his face, gently placing them behind Nicholas’s ear.

This time it’s Nicholas who leans closer. Their lips meet in a soft kiss. Everett’s hand find home on Nicholas’s hips and the omega parts his lips, wrapping his arms around Everett’s neck. The whole world fades into nothing and there’s only Nicholas, his taste, his scent, his warmth. Everett pulls him closer. Excitement and arousal runs through his veins. He pushes down the urge to take the omega then and there. No, not now. This moment is for Nicholas, to cherish and take care of him in the way Everett couldn’t during the past days.

He parts the kiss, leaning his forehead against Nicholas’s. “C’mon,” he whispers, lips brushing against the omega’s. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Back to the nest?” Nicholas asks, following Everett out of the stall. He doesn’t mention it when the alpha starts rubbing a towel against his skin. The motions are so gentle and careful Everett thinks he may as well be carressing the omega.

“Not yet,” he replies, pushing the mostly dry omega to sit on one of the benchs. Everett pulls the basket closer, picking up a small razor. A small smiles curves his lips at the expression on Nicholas’s face. “That long, huh?”

Everett has a habit of shaving every three days. It’s one of the few things he still has control of, something that makes him feel a little closer to home. He knows for a fact that Nicholas barely takes the time and effort needed to take care of his basic needs. More often than not he sees Eli dragging Nicholas down corridors to eat properly.

They don’t have any real shaving cream. The closest they got to make one is a jelly-like substance that reminds Everett of mint. Nicholas doesn’t stop him as he applies the substance on his face, nor does he flinch when the blade slides over his skin. Little by little, Everett removes the stubble that grew over the course of months. The redness of heat spreads down his jaw and neck. He rests his fingers on Nicholas’s neck, thumb tilting his chin slightly to the side. A low sound escapes Nicholas. Everett can feel it under his fingertips, a gentle tremor just under the skin.

Nicholas is purring.

Everett bites his lip. He doubts the omega noticed it. He _hopes_ Nicholas doesn’t, for it fills his chest with pride. That gentle sound exists for Everett and only him.

He places the razor on the sit besides him. Everett presses his lips to Nicholas’s neck right over the place his fingers previously occupied. He pulls the omega into an embrace. The purr spreads through Nicholas’s chest and vibrates against Everett’s skin. Everett closes his eyes, letting his body relax. His own chest starts vibrating. He can’t remember the last time he surrended to his own instincts like this. The rumbling continues, matching Nicholas’s soft purrs. Nicholas hides his face on Everett’s shoulder. Nicholas holds him back, breathing in his scent.

Everett’s heart beats faster at the intimacy of it all. This is more than he could ask for, and so, so much more than he deserves. He wishes they could stay like this forever. But, even if just for this small moment, it’s enough. And, for now, it’s all he needs.

* * *

_I don’t want this end_. Everett freezes as soon as that thought crosses his mind. He unconsciously tightens his embrace on Nicholas’s body. He knows it’s drawing closer to the end now. The red that was prominent on the omega’s face is completely gone. While during the first days Nicholas’s body demanded Everett’s knot six to seven times a day, they only made it twice the day before. He can think clearly and doesn’t rely on Everett to eat or clean himself anymore. Even his pheromones are back to normal.

There’s a sense of loss hollowing his chest. Everett knows that there’ll be no turning back once he leaves this room. They’ll go back to their old relationship, nothing more than Dr. Rush and Col. Young. He can only hope they can see eye to eye on things more often, that this past week can break the old cycle of hurt and getting hurt, attack and get attacked.

He doesn’t dare bring his fears up to the omega. No, he wants to spend this last day without sorrows. If everything goes wrong, if there’s truly no mending on their relationship, Everett wants this memory to be one he cherishes. He wonders if Nicholas will remember what they lived together in this room, or if it’ll fade with the fever of heat.

Everett kisses the top of Nicholas’s head. The omega nuzzles into his neck, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Everett smiles. It’s small and bitter, nothing but a shadow of the ones he gave Nicholas through the week. He blinks, eyes burning for a reason he refuses to admit. He’s an alpha. He’s a soldier. He can’t be so weak, not now, not in front of the omega who makes him feel alive and complete.

He can’t shed his tears yet.

Nicholas stirs. He shifts slightly before opening his eyes. Truly, no sign of the heat remains. The eyes that look up at Everett are almost golden under the sunlight. Nicholas frowns. He touches Everett’s face, barely a brush of fingers.

“Are you okay?” The question comes in a sleepy, hoarse voice. Everett nods. He doesn’t trust his own voice to speak now. He’s afraid he’ll break down if he does. Nicholas shifts, the sheets rustling under his weight. He looks at Everett from above now, face scrunched up in sheer disapproval. “Thought we agreed to be honest with each other, Everett.”

Everett arches an eyebrow. He doesn’t remember making such promise. It wasn’t part of Nicholas’s demands for his heat either. “Did we now?” he asks.

Nicholas huffs, pinching Everett’s arm in the most childish act the alpha ever saw him commit. “I’m serious here! No more lies... Please.”

Everett sucks in a breath. He looks away from Nicholas, from the golden-like hair that makes him resemble an angel more than a human. “I’m okay, just... nervous,” he confesses. It’s not a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either. Everett feels Nicholas relax over him. His expression is almost relieved. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Nicholas shakes his head, an amused little smile curving his lips. “Just glad. Thought you regretted this.”

Everett’s neck snaps with the speed he turns his face to look back at Nicholas. “Jesus, no, _never_!” He gulps, only realizing the words that escaped his lips when he sees Nicholas’s eyes widen. The omega smiles again, plump red lips contrasting against pale skin.

“Good,” he whispers. Nicholas leans closer to Everett, lips almost touching.

There’s no second thought before their lips meet. The kiss is different from the others they shared outside waves. There’s a passion in it they can’t contain. It shows through burning touches and delicioysly painful bites. Everett’s fingers dig into Nicholas’s ass, squeezing and spreading them as he sees fit. Nicholas doesn’t stay behind. He scratches and pulls and bites everywhere he can reach, covering Everett in fresh marks that will last for days on end.

But it’s not enough, no, it’s never enough. Touching doesn’t suffice their need anymore. Everett gasps when Nicholas reaches for his hardening cock, stroking it to full hardness. He bites Nicholas’s lower lip, pulling it between his teeth. He can feel Nicholas’s slick flowing down his thighs. The amount surprises him.

“Are you sure?” Everett asks. He needs to, before he does something Nicholas will regret. There’s no fever fogging the omega’s thoughts now. Everything they do from now on will definitely stay in his memory.

Nicholas reaches for Everett’s hand, placing it over his heart. Everett can feel the beats under his fingertips, fast and strong and a perfect mirror of his own heart. “I don’t remember much of what happened. I doubt I’ll remember anything at all in the future. But I don’t want to. Even if just this moment, I want to remember it.”

Everett pulls Nicholas down into another kiss. He grips the omega’s thighs tighter before standing up with Nicholas in his arms. The tiny gasp that escapes Nicholas makes Everett smirk. He walks forward, barely looking where he is going until he presses Nicholas’s back against the wall. The omega moans as the coldness seeps into his skin. He rolls his hips, his slit rubbing against Everett’s cock.

“I want you,” Everett breathes out. He bites onto Nicholas’s shoulder for the umpteemth time since the start of his heat.

The answer comes no more than a second after. Nicholas’s voice truly never sounded so sweet. “Then do it, Everett.”

It’s all he needs to push his cock inside the omega. Everett groans. After all the those days, how can Nicholas still feel so tight around him? Almost like a drug he can’t let go of, Everett invades Nicholas slowly, savoring every new inch. He’s addicted to this sensation and has no idea if he’ll ever feel this again. His eyes flutter closed. Everett inhales Nicholas’s scent. There’s no overwhelming sweetness from the heat, only _Nicholas_. His arms and legs are tightly wrapped around Everett. Everett can hear his breath, heavy, stuttering pants that speak volumes of the pleasure he’s feeling.

_Perfect_ , the word pops in his mind. Everett pulls his erection out of Nicholas before thrusting inside him again. His body moves on pure instinct, seeking for that spot that he knows will make Nicholas scream his name. He reaches for Nicholas’s nipples, biting and sucking the tender flesh. Everett shifts his angle a little, _just right_...

“Fuck!” The curse escapes Nicholas before he ca think of it. Everett keeps aiming for that ame spot, hitting it over and over again. Something about this feels so infinitely more pleasurable than all the other times throughout his heat. Everett wonders if it’s because they don’t _need_ to, but _want_ it.

He’s happy either way, for this is Nicholas. The most stubborn omega he ever met, the only person capable of completely make Everett lose control over himself. This is the omega his heart chose and, even if Nicholas never becomes his, Everett knows he’ll never have anyone else.

Everett speeds up his pace. He can feel Nicholas’s walls getting tighter with each passing second. He refuses to touch him. If his omega truly wants to remember this, then Everett will make sure he’ll have the best of experiences. Nicholas pulls him into one last kiss. Everett drinks his moans as Nicholas releases. Ropes of cum cover their torsos, the proof of Nicholas’s desire. He reaches his own orgasm soon after, filling his omega with his seed.

Nicholas rests his forehead against Everett’s shoulder. He doesn’t let go of him long after they reach completion. _Even if just for a few more minutes_ , Everett prays in his mind, _let’s enjoy this moment_.

“Thank you.”

* * *

There’s one thing absolutely beautiful about the human nature: they’re made of memories. Eli’s voice echoing down the hallways, dragging an amused Dr. Rush to have a decent meal; Chloe’s begs to see Rush in one of her dresses; Greer’s embarrassed apologies; Tamara’s careful silence; Camile’s knowing smile—Col. Young will never forget the things he lived with his crew no matter what. They’re part of who he is, they’re what shape his very being into the person he’s becoming.

But, more than that Everett Young will never forget the days spent in a golden colored room. Nicholas’s smiles, his touches, his whispered words will forever stay in his mind. They’re the reminder that Everett is more than a heartless monster. They’re his hope that he can become a better human. Someone that, hopefully, Nicholas will learn to love with time. But, for now, he’ll hold those bittersweet memories close to his heart, forever living with the remembrance of what he can and cannot have, what he gained and lost, what he wants and what he needs to protect.

For the love that remains: _saudades_.


	4. Extra: Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set right after Greer's attack.

The infirmary isn’t far from where Rush’s room, but somehow never the walk never felt longer. He doesn’t see anyone on the way and wonders if it’s TJ’s doing. The infirmary, however, is full of people. Tamara’s working on a makeshift cast for Scott’s broken arm; Chloe hovers over her beta boyfriend, eyebrows pinched in worry. Camile is on the opposite corner applying some ointment on her own scratched cheeks and murmurs something to Eli. There’s no sign of Greer, but the scent of his blood lingers in the air. Rush can’t tell if the alpha was there or if it’s his pheromones clinging to the people he attacked.

Young notices him first. The Colonel was walking in circles, hands behind his back and head low as though deep in thought. Then he perks up, eyes going straight to where Rush stands near the door. There’s nothing of the betrayed hurt Rush saw in him earlier. Young’s gaze is intense, but unreadable. He opens his mouth only to close it again as Chloe’s surprised voice echoes in the room.

Her hair makes her look like a fiery force of nature as she makes her way to Rush. Chloe’s hands are small against Rush’s, and far more delicate. There’s relief in her eyes when she says, “Sorry I didn’t notice before! Are you alright?”

“They are. Don’t worry about it.” Rush smiles at her, as small as it may look. “Thank you.” Just the fact that he won’t have to carry his day smelling like Greer is already more than he could’ve asked for.

“Good.” Chloe’s expression soften at his words. She nods, keeping her hold on his hand firm. Rush looks up when Tamara stands up. There’s something uncomfortable in the beta’s eyes, like she’s considering the best way to approach an unpleasant topic. The way her gaze falls on Young and how she bites her lip tells Rush all he needs to know.

Rush’s scent flickers the tiniest bit, the sweetness that coated air turning sour.

TJ clears her throat, bringing everyone’s attention back to her. When she speaks, her voice is just as clear as it was when odering Rush away, “Eli, Camile, would you please leave?” And when Eli opens his mouth to protest, “There’s no need to make this any more embarrassing. Please.” She turns to look at Young, who’s leaning against one of the many tables. “Sir?”

Young doesn’t move from his spot even as Camile drags a clearly upset Eli away from the room. TJ sighs, knowing fully well there’s little to nothing she can do about it. She won’t dare going against her commander, even more when said commander also holds a place in her heart. Something stirs within Rush at the thought of Young and Tamara together. He’s not sure if he wants to find out what it is.

“Take a seat,” TJ says at last. The door closes behind Camile’s and Eli’s backs. Tamara sits heavily on her chair, something akin to nausea flickering over her expression before it’s gone.

Chloe sits by his side on one of the beds. Now that Rush looks closely, she’s wearing the same coat dress she wore at Icarus. Seeing the formal clothing over worn out pajama pants and a Simpsons T-shirt is almost comical. Rush’s pretty sure the shirt isn’t her either, given how strongly it smells like Scott.

The rustling of papers is the only sound filling the room. TJ curses lowly as she looks for something in the book she’s holding. Some pages are starting to yellow on the edges, and many others are filled with notes and images of the human figure. It’s just then that it hits Rush that Tamara was still studying when she got to Icarus. He wonders if she’ll ever finish her course now that they’re so far away from home.

“The first thing you need to know is that omegas are, without exception, beings that need physical and emotional connections to keep their mental and physical health. It doesn’t have anything to do with personality or sexuality; more often than not those ties aren’t even related to humans, but the place they’re inserted in. But they are _needed._ ”

TJ doesn’t look at Rush as she speaks. Rush knows this is just her way of making the issue understandable for Scott and Young, who most likely aren’t aware of those details. She finally looks at Rush, “When that... incident happened, you were separated not only from the place you recognized as home, but also from your bonded son and any other form of human interaction. Some omegas in that situation related feeling discomfort, difficulty to breathe, chest pain, nausea, mental confusion and hearing some kind of _snap_ in their heads. Is that true for you too?”

Rush frowns, trying to remember exactly what he felt waking up alone in that planet. He remembers the dry air, the cold sand that felt as though it would consume him entirely. His breath came out in ragged, painful pants and he’s pretty sure the owner of that fallen ship won’t be happy seeing the mess Rush made inside as he tried to get the thing to work. And, sure enough, there _was_ a snap, though he didn’t hear it as much as he felt it inside him; he was far too distracted with Young’s painful words and cold rage, after all.

He bites his lip, nodding slowly. He forces his mind to come back to the present. He already shed enough tears over what happened. He won’t let any other fall, not in front of Young himself.

“When that happens... The omega’s body starts producing hormones as a means to guarantee they’ll be accepted into the first pack they meet,” TJ continues on her explanation.

“So,” Scott frowns, shifting his position with a low hiss of pain. It’s enough to get Chloe’s attention back to him, but one light shake of head tells them he’s fine. “You’re saying they’ll go into heat just so they won’t be abandoned again? I thought omegas had ways of _preventing_ this kind of thing from happening due to abuse and forced mating.”

“They do. It’s called repression. Omegas can stop their heats at will until they’re in a safe place to have them. It can only be done once, however, and the longer they hold it back, the worst will be the symptoms.” Tamara nods in understanding. There’s something in her eyes that looks almost grateful for Scott’s input. Rush knows that feeling. Years as a teacher proved him there’s nothing worse than explaining things to uninterested parts. “For stranded omegas, most don’t go beyond showing a sweeter scent or emitting distress pheromones. Some will have slight fevers in order to make sure they’ll be cared for no matter what.

“Things are a little different for omegas past the menopause. For one, they’re rarely exposed to such conditions, given that at that stage of life they’re most likely to have a family and mates to care for them. In early centuries, though, many lost mates and packs due to famine, wars and diseases such as the Black Death. For them it was nearly impossible to be accepted into new packs since they were considered too old and weaker.”

There’s an edge in TJ’s voice as she says this. Rush belatedly realizes that she, too, hates that part of history. He unconsciously holds Chloe’s hands tighter, his body relaxing with the knowledge that he’s not the only sick to the bone with that fact.

“So their bodies found a way to force their way in. And it’s in the form of a heat, just like the one Rush’s entering right now. Although, given your expression, I’m sure you already knew this,” she points out.

Rush doesn’t care about the stares, doesn’t dare to look at the only alpha in the room. He just nods, “I did. It was part of the reason I risked so much with taking the ship. I thought it’d happen anytime then.” He doesn’t miss TJ’s uncomfortable shift on the chair. Rush knows that’s still a sore spot in their relationship. The only reason he even admitted that is because he can still feel Chloe’s warmth by his side. “When it didn’t come, I just brushed it off as luck.”

“I can see why. It’s been what, a month and half since you came back? Maybe a little more?” Tamara’s gaze goes from Rush to the other side of the room, where Young still stands in silence. She hesitates again, that same discomfort from before flicking in her eyes before it’s gone. “It must be hard. To think something like this is happening and you’ll have no say in what will happen with your own body.”

There’s something more to her words. Rush can feel it in the way Tamara’s head tilts the slightest bit to the right, in the careful tone of her voice. The hidden message is not his to keep, however; he decides he won’t dwell much on this. He can hear Scott shift behind him, something uncomfortable and clearly awkward mixing with his beta scent.

“What do you mean?” Scott, the ever-gentle boy asks. “Of course he has a say in it, it’s _his_ body... Right?”

Rush looks over his shoulder. Scott looks paler than usual, something almost frantic dancing across his eyes as he waits for an answer that won’t come. He smiles at him, as self-deprecating as it looks. “You think I’d have committed that mistake if I had?”

The military isn’t kind. Rush’s someone to hate, a bother to their power and plans of control. If he fell into his heat, he knows Young would have reported to his superiors to know what to do as he’s the one who understands Destiny the most. The ones back at Earth surely don’t care about his feelings; Rush doubts they care for their own soldiers at all. The order to make it end fast would come and then it’d be just a matter of time before Rush was shoved under some alpha.

If he was lucky, maybe Young would take the matters into his own hands, but that he’s unsure what that’d mean after everything that happened between them. The next option, the second strongest, Greer. After what happened earlier, Rush doesn’t want to even imagine what an entire heat with the short tempered alpha would be like.

Eli is a son to him, both in heart and mind. Camile’s out of question. He knows how happy she is with her mate. _A wonderful woman_ , as she always says. She never disclosed her mate’s secondary gender, but given her reaction to Rush’s pheromones it’s obvious now. He doesn’t trust any other alpha aboard Destiny and knows too well there’s little to nothing a beta can do to satiate an omega out of controlled heats.

And, to top it all off, Rush feared what they could do when they found out about the tracker inside of him. He guesses he’s luck things turned out well in the end. Given how everyone aboard Destiny is still going through some degree of malnourishment and dehydration everyday, going to point of having to depend on alien venom to fill the medicaments they’re lacking, it’s a given he wouldn’t have survived if the suture infected. Probably just another body they’d have to deal with.

“So, how’ll this be? I’m in _pre-heat_ , not _heat._ Will you wait or just force me to fuck an alpha now to get rid of it?” The words come out before Rush can truly think of them, fueled with nothing but pent up frustration and barely concealed anger. “C’mon, I don’t have all day. I have a ship to fix and we’ll be out of FTL any moment now.”

TJ flinches visibly at his tone. Betas aren’t nearly as sensitive to pheromones as alphas and omegas; they know, however, when to step back in the face of the other genders’ anger. She opens her mouth, then bites her lip. Tamara then drops her gaze, the closest to a submission gesture a beta can perform. Somehow it’s enough to make Rush’s anger recede, something primal and deeply ingravated into him satisfied with display.

Chloe places a hand on his back. It’s small and delicate, warm even through the many layers of Rush’s borrowed clothes. Rush wishes that hand won’t go away. The pain is a little more bearable with this girl by his side. She almost feels like a daughter to his senses, gentle and strong as the beta that held all of Rush’s heart for more years than he can recall.

Gloria would have loved Chloe.

“None of that.” Rush pauses, turning to the source of the voice slowly. Young’s still in the same position, almost like a statue of sorts. He wonders if he just imagined the alpha’s voice until Young raises his head. There’s something in his eyes that makes Rush want to shift in discomfort. Is he angry? At Rush? _Did the past days mean anything to Young?_

“I’m sorry,” the care with which Tamara’s choosing her words is almost palpable, “but, Col. Young, Rush can’t go through this without an alpha. It may have been influenced by external forces, but it’s clear that the only reason he went this long without a heat is because he was unconsciously repressing it. Who knows what will hap—”

“I’m aware, TJ,” Young cuts her. His words sound colder than ice. But there’s something in his tone that makes Rush bite his lip and look away. “As he said, he’s still in pre-heat and we’ll need him to get to the next gate. Which should happen any moment now.”

There’s a complaint ready to come out of Tamara. It’s obvious in the way her hands clench around the fabric of her pants and how her breath hitches. She gives up on whatever she wanted to say, however, and leans back against her chair. Rush can’t help but frown. Did Tamara gain a few pounds while he was away? Or is it just his imagination?

“How will you do that, sir?” The question comes from Scott. There’s a tint of relief in his scent knowing his superior isn’t the heartless bastard Rush still believes him to be. “There are other alphas in ship, unmated and mated to betas who won’t be able to hold back.”

Young raises an eyebrow at Scott. “Then just keep them away from Rush,” he says as though it’s the simplest task in the world.

And maybe it is. Rush’s eyes go wide as he understands what’s going on in Young’s mind. Excitement courses through his body in waves, and for a moment he forgets the whole ordeal between them and the very reason they’re having this conversation. “Are you suggesting we divide the ship, Colonel?” he asks, he needs to be sure it’s real and not just another wistful wish from his part.

“If that’s what it takes.” Young finally moves away from the spot he claimed as his during their conversation. “Now, you all have work to do. And Rush,” he adds as an afterthought, frowining as he takes a better look of Rush, “Take a shower first. You deserve. it”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now that it's truly done I don't know what to feel. Pride, for sure. It's the first time I finish a multichapter fic since I was 12. I'm happy too. But at the same time I'm sad that this is the end. I'll miss writing these dorks and the setting in general.   
> I can't thank Talla enough for choosing me to write this. Thank you for being so patience and for gifting me with one of the best experiences I've ever had as a writer.  
> I wish you a happy birthday again.   
> Thank you for everything and, above all, for being my friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Kissus ♥


End file.
